About a Heroine
by hellohworld
Summary: Tenten thought that her stint in the army would be an adventure for the ages. She was wrong. AU, warfic, gradual NejiTen, plus KibaHinaNaruSakuSasu, ChouInoShikaTema.
1. Proem

About a Heroine

Today had been a bad one, all right. The man known as her lieutenant placed a jug of beer before her. He was a handsome officer indeed, with a cleanly shaven chin and long, black hair that framed his face flatteringly.

She looked at him, traced her eyes down to rest at the shape of his hand, and then across to the froth of the beer. The memories of the last time she'd been stupid enough to drink alcohol were hazy; it'd been so long since she'd drunk. For good reason too.

Now, she had no reason _not _to. This was just what she needed.

Without a moment's hesitation, she picked up the beer and chugged it down in a few seconds flat.

"Get me another."

And so he did. "Drink up. Today's been…"

"Hell on earth. Tell me about it."

And after a few more, the tears that she had held back fell in a downpour as she felt herself falling into something strange, but comfortably unaware. Her vision, already misty, became thickly clouded, and kept her far away from reality. Her mind drifted off elsewhere, and she was sure it floated into a place that held her memories.

* * *

She'd always been a clumsy child with shaky hands—and as a little girl her mother had never quite come to terms with that acquired inelegance. Without any intention of ever inflicting harm, Tenten from her youngest days broke vases. She was scolded at school and home for having illegible penmanship, or reprimanded for spilling hot water, often across her own arm. There was no denying that she was the blunt one of the bunch, and was often chided for things that were no faults of her own.

She was too much of a dreamer. Overtly idealistic, even when she knew not of most the world.

But her parents loved her all the same.

Her mother weaved her pretty dresses and poured love into all her meals and made sure she never left home without an umbrella on rainy days. Though she was strict she was also affectionate, and Tenten loved her very much.

Her father also doted on her, and being an old war veteran, he was a patriot who loved to nourish his daughter's dreams. He told her about the legendary women who achieved victory in combat, defying odds and breaking social standards. Over the years, he found she loved most the Ballad of Mulan and the story of Tsunade-hime.

Through countless encores she requested of him, by the age of ten, Tenten's fantasies had grown into something that would become troublesome in the years to come, regarding her more-or-less adult life.

"Daddy, I wanna learn how to fight!"

"_Do _you now? Put those silly thoughts to rest, dear daughter. The battlefield is certainly no place for a woman."

"Said who! What about Hua Mulan… you said so yourself! A-and Lady Tsunade!"

"…and dear me! Even less of a place for a child!"

Tenten huffed, jutting out her young red cheeks, an endearing display of her childish rage.

"But I'll tell you what. You can have my cap."

"_Really_?"

"Really. On the condition you'll stop blabbering on about this nonsense. Especially to your mother."

"It's not nonsense!"

Tenten crossed her little arms, and her father scratched his beard. For a moment, a train of thought did two laps around his grey head, and then stopped. An idea had crossed his mind. Tenten could see it in his eyes. Her father asked her to close the door and take a look at the billboard behind it.

"All right, Tenten. If you're serious about becoming my apprentice, I'll teach you to fight if you can pull off three bullseyes with these darts."

The old veteran smirked as he handed her the miniature missiles. His daughter did the same.

"Easy peasy, right?"

Not likely—especially considering the fact Tenten always had "wobbly" hands. It was such a prominent flaw of hers that Tenten's parents thought of it as a nervous twitch or brain deformity, and they'd even gone to a specialist (who simply told them to watch and wait). Besides, it was not even likely for top snipers to have a hundred percent accuracy. And they were talking about darts here, not automatic rifles with built in pinpoint accuracy or what not.

So it was no surprise the Veteran (who was honestly thinking much too far) was dumbstruck when his clumsy, somewhat slow daughter hit the bullseye of the board.

He struggled to wipe the gawk off his face. "Humph. Beginner's luck."

And then he found himself to be still gaping when she'd done it again.

And again.

* * *

At times he would say to Tenten's mother at dinner, "My, my! Look at the girl we've made! Isn't she something? Isn't she gorgeous? To think those good for nothing hands belonged to the greatest sniper in the world!" And then he would give Tenten's forehead a good rub, and she would smile fondly back at him.

On those lonely nights when her father boasted of her talents, she couldn't hear the end of her mother's screaming even when she tried pulling the pillows over her head. And usually on the next day after the fights, some sort of glassware had been broken, and Tenten would be tired, hungry. Tenten's mother always tried to bribe her daughter to tap into her feminine side by buying candies for her and showing to her pretty, delicate dresses. She ate the fancy sweets and wore the fashionable dresses, but to no avail.

The only times Tenten gave her mother the joy of Explaining Womanly Virtues first was when she had a set of growing, budding breasts and asked her mother to help her with a bra, second time she asked how to snazz up a quick meal, and Ma had shown her a quick and classy way to do it. Third time Tenten had trusted her Ma enough to ask her about a sexual rendezvous she'd had with her first boyfriend, of which Ma did not approve and they never approached the subject again.

Tenten always kept at her lessons at the local dojo, run by a man who was just a tad bit… _loony, _(but sweet) where she met a boy named Rock Lee, who'd later become a lifelong friend and confidant. They even dated for a little while during the sixth year of Tenten's apprenticeship to her father as a smithy, but cut off their romantic affiliation due to each party's respective devotion to their lifelong ambition. And lifelong indeed, they stayed close till the very end.

And as Tenten's family's mental health plummeted, Tenten's former training started to become increasingly hard. Dad was just that bit harsher and demanding, Ma was just that bit more unstable and deranged, and funds started to dwindle with the dying economy and political crisis the country was in.

Tenten soldiered on, and by seventeen, she'd finished her apprenticeship and became quite skilled in weaponry. Name a tool and she'd know how to use it effectively, wield it, and in some cases craft it.

Her impressive résumé was just in time for the nation-wide draft to be issued, and there was one problem and one problem only with that. Tenten was a girl.

All men aged seventeen to fifty-five were to serve in the army. Luckily her father was older that that age group and wasn't qualified to join.

"No fair," Tenten had sighed as she read the sign on the billboard. Apparently women with even at least a little medical experience were welcome, though. To serve as a horde of nurses and doctors.

Pfft, nurses and doctors. Probably euphemisms for something more despicable. Girls those days didn't even know they're selling themselves into certain doom. Not a clue, not one. Tenten shook her worried head as she thought about the "comfort women" she'd read about on the shelves of her father's warfare section. Nevertheless it wasn't _their _fault, and the women of the house were quite excited otherwise, chattering on about how exciting it was how war had broken out between some far off nation and their own peaceful, prosperous, albeit boring country.

But the same could not be said for the Veteran, who seethed with a hidden glower.

* * *

"Definitely not for me!" Tenten snapped at her agitated mother, who was trying to convince her daughter to sign up for the nursing job.

"But it's a great opportunity for—"

And then the father of the house slammed his hand on the table, right there. "That is _enough_. I'll tell you this right now! There is absolutely no good that comes of war. Have you ever watched your best friend _die_?"

Tenten shut her mouth in mid sentence, and her eyes snapped over to her father.

"There he goes again, still mourning over the death of his—" Ma's voice had overridden Pa's. There was a vindictive fire in both their eyes.

Tenten was stuck hopelessly in the middle of another of their arguments. But something wasn't quite right about this one. Dad had a fiercer retaliation and more bite in his words than usual.

"Oh shut up, woman. While I was out the watching him die you were _whoring _around with… with that _janitor_!"

"I think we all know that you loved him more than you loved me."

"Well who are you to speak you spoiled, petty, gold digging—"

The girl tried to sound reasonable and calm, but when she spoke her voice was broken and dry. "Well _I _don't. I have no idea who this j-ja-janitor is. And daddy, please don't yell at mama…"

Her father stormed out of the room, and her mother was left sobbing, holding onto the hems of her daughter's skirt for comfort.

"Sweetheart…"

"Don't cry, Ma. I'm going to go sign up for the war. I'll protect you and daddy; you'll have nothing to worry about. And you won't hafta fight because of me anymore…"

"Stupid child! Why go and come back to us with less a limb? Do you despise us that much?"

"No. It's my dream… to be recognised as a heroine, you know?"

"Don't you dare! You know what happens to women who get found out in the army… they get send away to do all these horrible," she said, thinning her lips, "Just how are you going to become that heroine anyway if women _won't _be recognised as heroes?"

"I know Ma, I can take care of myself... And Ma, where's your spontaneity?"


	2. Determination

_Determined_

"The brown is so boring; I don't think I'd miss it anyway," she said to the girl in the mirror, holding with trembling hands scissors that brushed the tips of her hair.

_It's not brown dear, its auburn. A beautiful mane suited for such a beautiful girl, _her mother always used to say with an honest smile.

It'd been a few hours after Tenten was locked inside her room with a united effort from her parents. She was now quite the rogue. She smiled cheekily at her own reflection, which she later knew to have been hopeful, young, irresponsible and plain _stupid_.

Tenten shut her eyes tight, took a lungful of air and… _snip, snip_, she took the plunge of the blade.

* * *

She never really _thought _about the outcomes of war. She never had a reason for going. Perhaps it was just her penchant for adventure calling, or the childish tangent of her that wanted prove that she could get down to the nitty gritty as the boys could. To present to the world how women too could indeed survive the onslaught of combat in war.

It had to be done. She would _show _them. She would come back in who-knows-when and prove to them she'd been a brave and loyal soldier who remained alive and well. Besides, she couldn't quite swallow the thought of Lee dying and her not knowing it until months later. If they died, they would die together, and with honour to boot.

So she waited until the yelling downstairs ebbed away. While she waited she stuck tape around her breasts to pin them down, and then tenderly bandaged layers around them until she couldn't feel the faintest texture of softness. Hopefully her chest was looking half the size it really was. Hell, it _better_ be, the bindings were horribly tight, and thus extremely uncomfortable. Taking a hairpin from her vanity desk, she successfully picked at the lock on her door. Lord only knows where the urchins where who taught her the skill.

Putting on the cap her father had given her, she took a dagger and thermos from the kitchen, some leftover sandwiches, medicine, bandages, tape and a few photographs for comfort. She also happened to nick her father's Swiss watch, and at the last minute, remembered to take a bunch of toiletries. Hopefully she could convince the men the items of feminine hygiene were some kind of sex toy, or just happen to hide them really, _really _well.

Quietly she closed the door behind her, and left.

* * *

"Open up! Lee! _Lee!_" She stood rigidly outside of the dojo, cropped hair, manly stance, mad blush and all, waiting not so patiently for a reply. Tenten knew he was there. Even in these sorts of hours, Lee would still be busting his moves. "_Lee_!" she yelled a last time.

Instead of who she was expecting, her teacher, Maito Gai had instead answered her call. "Tenten? Oh my, what have you done to your—but I must say, you look ever the more youthful than before!"

The old man smiled at her, his thick, bushy, grey eyebrows wrinkling as they met at the bridge of his nose. It saddened her how old and arthritic he'd become through a few short years. But even with the bouts sickness Gai slipped in and out of, he always had some kick in him. Always would. Even at fifty seven, his muscles were still rippling to a degree that was ridiculous, even more so considering his age.

"Thank you Gai-sensei… But where is Lee?"

"He left just a minute ago… he was looking for you. Said something about…"

Before Gai could finish his sentence, she was gone into the night.

* * *

When she found him, she gave him a good _thwack_ on the head. "Lee!"

"Ow! Oh, youthful Tenten… it hurts."

"It should!" she huffed. "Where were you going?"

"To find _you_!"

"Oh." She fell quiet for a minute. For the time she stopped hopping about, Lee had realised something was different about her… she looked a little strange, more boyish than usual. It was hard to make out someone's apparel in the dark of the night, but soon he came to the realisation she was cross-dressing as a _man_.

"Tenten… you…"

"Shush! _No one can know_!"

"Surely you have something youthful to say to look for me at this time of day! Well, night." Knowing her life he did, Lee already had her plan all figured out the moment he had seen her attire. "And, um, Tenten... Would you be, by any chance, planning to infiltrate the army under the disguise of a man?"

"No! Well, yes. But I was also worried about you! If you did something stupid like you usually do." She breathed sharply. "And well, I had to tell you that I kind of… ran off?"

Lee made a worried face, putting a hand on the sore crown of his bowl-crop.

"Well, I-I… wanted to join the battle. I thought we could go together and…" Tenten chuckled before she said anything else. "We could be comrades."

She dropped her defensive tenor and finished her sentence with a smile. Lee's worried look had run away; it turned into a grin of sorts, more like the bouncing ball of green enthusiasm they were more used to.

"What a marvellously youthful idea! We will join hands and be united as a fountain of undying brotherhood that will blossom like a springtime lotus! You see Tenten? This is our lucky day! We could be heroes!"

They grinned at each other like two children at Christmastime. But Tenten still scolded him with, "Shh! Lee, not so loud!"

Smirking as she did so, Tenten drew the dagger from her backpack, and cut her own palm with the edge of the knife. Lee had winced a little at the site of her bleeding. "Hold out your hand."

He did, and she carved a thin line on his hand that was identical to hers. Lee was grinning at her like an idiot. "Do you swear it Lee? Swear it on this oak tree we are underneath that from now on we'll be blood brothers. Never will we betray each other, never will we doubt each other, and we'll take each other for who we are."

"Never under the name of youth!"

They smiled at each other and shook hands. Blood over blood, the newborn brothers headed off to war.

* * *

By morning they took a late bus, and trekked all the way to the campsite. For a moment, Tenten was hesitant to go.

"Tenten, what're you waiting for?"

"…I should make up a name for myself. I don't wanna go in there looking like an idiot."

* * *

But still, by the time they reached one of the many registration tents, they came up with nothing.

"So, what are your names?"

A refined young man looked up from his clipboard, trim and pale as the moon. He was smart in his uniform and polite enough, but cast quite a mean stare. It was also noticeable he had hair that reached down to the small of his waist, if only because it was an odd choice of hairstyle for a man.

"It's Rock Lee!" said Lee. "And he… well, h-he's…"

Tenten never got to speak, and bit at her lip. Lee was going to say something stupid.

_Please don't think of something stupid; please don't think of something stupid… _

"…B-Bruce Lee!" he finished. Damn. He said something stupid. Tenten gave Lee a tight pinch on the arm.

"Idiot," she muttered. Her face flushed, and the sweat glands moaned for air.

"So sorry Tenten, all I could think of," Lee murmured in return.

"So your first name is Rock, and yours is Bruce? How odd," the man said with a scowl.

"They know me as Lee—"

"Look. I don't care; anything that concerns content that is both personal and private is irrelevant. Now both of you face the wall. I will now conduct a security check. And I will be addressed as _sir_."

They both did as they were told. But Tenten could not live with the name _Bruce Lee._

"S-sir! My brother here was just kidding! M-my actual name is Ryuu. Ryuu Lee."

"Very well." He scribbled over her name and wrote her new identity beside it.

"Either of you have any diseases? Infections, defections? Anything that would affect your performance, allergies or phobias we should be aware of?"

"No sir!" they both chimed in unison.

"Now empty your pockets. And hand me all your belongings. I will inspect them, and if there is anything suspicious that I find, they are subject to confiscation."

She felt heat in her cheeks rise in temperature when she remembered she had stuck questionable items in her backpack, but he merely brushed through her bag, gave it back, and then did the same with Lee's. Though she was preparing an explanation as he searched them, he didn't even have a slightest clue about her real gender, or at least she hoped he didn't. Maybe just with the way he acted around _people_, he'd just never been that close to a girl. Heck, he even let her keep the dagger.

Tenten found it funny how they were being treated more like criminals than heroes serving the country in an army, especially when the long-haired guy began to frisk them for security "reasons."

She flinched the second he laid a hand on her shoulder, but he then warned, "If you resist inspection and quarantine, you'll only seem all the more suspicious." He gave another one of his cold stares, and continued mounting his gloved hands all over her body.

It was indecent, and Tenten began to wonder if the army was really any different than signing up for the nursing job.

Though a second or so later she was comforted by the fact she'd been accepted as a man. Lee was going through the same thing, after all. And she had to admit that his hands were cool, soft to the touch, neutral and harboured no _ill. _Just a quick skim. Still, she had to bite down on her tongue to keep from lashing out at him.

The man pulled two uniforms wrapped and neatly pressed from a box. He threw one towards Lee, then Tenten. The clothes were stiffer and heavier than they had imagined.

"Here. You two will go to the same cabin. It's number 1010."

"Perhaps he's queer," Tenten spat under her breath while Lee looked on quizzically. Pretending not to hear them, the officer didn't look up from his work.

"Report to the training grounds tomorrow morning at six hundred hours for your morning laps. You are both dismissed."

And he waved them away with a flick of his hand. From here on after they had left through the other side of the tent, they saw the rest of the camp.

* * *

_I don't think I'm very good at writing cliff-hangers… no. Well, anyway, hello! You've reached the second chapter of the story. Good on you for making it this far through all the clichés! (And yes, I did kind of make a reference to Little Women. And Bruce Lee, but I never go without a Bruce Lee reference.) I apologise. __I have three reviews and seventy hits! Thanks everyone. :D_


	3. Challenge

_Challenge_

Perched on her bed at five hundred hours, Tenten thought about her peers. It wasn't because men were _stupid_, she decided, or that she was incredibly _good_ at voice acting, it's just to put it simply, they didn't care. These men were awfully mature and minded their own business, very different than the experience Tenten had with her playground buddies. But then again, that was a good thing. Besides, she had forgotten that these boys had been forced to grow up much too early. They'd probably been pulled away from their mothers, sisters, sweethearts and wives, and were mulling over it now.

Lee and Tenten found cabin number 1010 to be a tiny thing. Somehow they'd managed to squeeze in five bunks and ten men who found space for their minimal belongings and were crammed full of character.

No one had been bothered to introduce each other, so Lee took the honour of going first. "Nice you meet you all! My name is Rock Lee! And I come from—" Before he could finish the sentence with "womb of youth," Tenten quickly covered his mouth.

"I'm _so _sorry! My brother's such a nuisance! We're sorry to have bothered you!"

Lee was still standing in the middle of the room, saluting the wall in front of him. No one paid attention to them except for a grinning boy who was huddled on a top bunk. He wore a white singlet tucked underneath his camo army pants, and a leather jacket over it. Tenten wondered if he was even allowed to do that with his uniform.

"So you're the new guys." He flashed them some extremely sharp canines. She nodded slowly, staring at twin red triangles that pointed down to the earth from his cheeks.

"My friends call me Fang," he said, pausing, "_At least they would if I had any._"

Fang jumped down from the bunk with a _thud_, and held out a hand for Tenten to shake. She smiled at him as sincerely as she could manage.

"I'm Te—I mean Ryuu. This guy here is my brother, Lee." With her free hand, she pulled Lee's collar so they were standing uniformly side by side.

"Y-yes! I am Rock Lee! Ah, Te—Ryuu, who would this youthful young man be?"

"Fang." He turned his gaze from Tenten to Lee, threw a teethy smirk and turned back to Tenten. Fang had a wild expression slapped on – like he was trying to _smell _their origins. "You're quite the pretty boy, aren't cha? A late bloomer too, by the looks of it."

Tenten panicked, her voice crumbling into a ridiculously high-pitched falsetto. "W-what do you mean?"

"Your voice. It's still breaking, isn't it? And you have the most ridiculously narrow shoulders I've ever seen. Seems like you don't pack much in terms of height, either." Fang leapt onto another bunk, informing the occupier of the arrivals. "Oi, Fishcake. C'mere and hav'a look at the fresh meat."

Now a blond approached them in the same manner this "Fang" did. Jumping off the bunk cinematically, he loomed towards them without fear.

"This is Private Naruto Uzumaki, my man, Fishcakes." Fang wrapped an arm around his companion's shoulder, and punched his arm softly with his fist. Tenten observed. This seemed to be a gesticulation of "manliness" and "coolness," so furthermore promoted a better "blending-in."

"I'm gonna be a general one day, believe it!" Naruto bellowed. This guy really knew how to smile with his eyes.

"So Fishcakes. This ere' is Ryuu, that there is Lee."

Naruto gave them his best smile, and called yet another guy over. His great blue eyes told them all about his excitement. "Sasuke!"

"What do you _want_, loser?" Sasuke moaned.

"Heh, heh! Sasuke, don't be like that, come meet the new kids. Pretty please…? Do it for _me_!"

Sasuke, who was lounging on the bottom of the bunk he shared with Naruto, stirred at the words _do it for me_. Maybe they had a deeper relationship than it seemed.

"Fine," Sasuke muttered under his breath.

As he came under the light, the skin beneath Tenten's eyes became pink. Sasuke was rather attractive, fairly comparable to the icy officer that had frisked them just a while ago.

"It's very nice to meet you both," he said. Sasuke smiled at them tightly, tiredly and shook both their hands, followed by a scoff. He turned away and shot a glare at Naruto, then went back to brooding on his bed. Naruto laughed him off and kept at talking.

* * *

By the end of the day, Tenten and Lee had been officially declared "Pretty Boy" and "Bushy-brow." Who coined these incredulously stupid nicknames? Well it really wasn't that obvious.

Lee had taken a tremendous liking to Naruto. Fine with Tenten, really. She stuck to Fang.

He seemed to be the gossip girl of the campus. He could tell her the histories of all the soldiers in the damn regiment if she asked – Every single controversy, whether it be fact or fiction. It seemed because of that knowledge he possessed (as well as his big mouth that wouldn't quit yabbering on), no one really liked Fang much. By the time they made their way to the mess hall it was obvious he was trying to make a friend with the way he kept up with her all the time and told her bit and pieces of information he hoped would keep her interested.

Today's menu was soy burgers and an undefinable, chunky, grey gunk. Tenten poked at it and refused to eat. Fang on the other hand, munched with enthusiasm.

"What're you waiting for? Dig in!" He spoke with his mouth full.

She didn't talk much either. Chances were she might blow her cover with that stupidly high voice of hers. So she let Fang do the talking.

"You know that Naruto you met this morning? He's a goddamn idiot. He's in love with this girl. Sakura's her name. She serves at the front lines as a nurse, graduate of some university run by that Tsunade lady."

Tenten twitched at the name, unaware that deep in the pit of her heart, a cascade of envy flowed through her blood. "Yeah, go on."

"She's got this pink hair and tiny curves. You can't even _see _where her hips start. And don't talk about her tits. They're the size of plums, for chrissake."

"Plums, huh…" Plums didn't sound too good. Tenten hoped no one thought of her breasts as "plums" and definitely not to have had said so behind her back.

"He's fallen so badly, he's got a _picture _of her in his _wallet_. Which he stole from her freakin' room. Yeah, and poor Hinata… She _faints_ at his touch, and I'm not even kidding. Fishcake's a lucky man. He's so infatuated he won't take a look around... But neither will she." Then he looked down at the table with sullen longing. "And the only reason that Sakura's there is cause of that Sasuke, she's in love with _him_. But he ain't returnin' the favour. That hotshot Uchiha's only here 'cause of Naruto. He can't leave 'im an' can't get enough o' that smile.

"Uh huh." Tenten nodded to show that she followed.

"Now, Hinata! _She _is the embodiment of a perfect fucking human. An' she ain't got no plum business either." He took a big sip out of his badly blendy cordial and took a big breath, like he was bracing himself for a tragedy. "A set of watermelons," he sighed wistfully.

That was the part where Tenten really started to pity him. He seemed to be an ordinary guy, just mixed up with the wrong people. "Why're you telling me this, Fang?"

"I like you. Besides, no one else is gunna throw me a pity party when the right time comes." Fang smiled, and then reached into his pocket. "Hey pretty boy, I'll let cha in on a secret. Don't tell anybody but… look."

Fang pointed to his pocket. There was a little puppy that looked like he was looking for his way out of there. The puppy affectionately licked at Fang's fingers with zeal.

"Whoa there, how'd you-"

"I found the little guy at the edge of camp. Sprained his little leg there." Fang lifted his tiny foot with his finger and Tenten saw a miniature bandage wrapped around its ankle. "He's only a few weeks old. He'd easily die. Don't tell anyone bout' im'. Or I'll have to hate you forever. And you my friend, you'd be a murderer."

"I won't. He's so cute; I'd never do such a thing! What kind of person do you take me for, Fang?" She laughed and hit him on the arm, mimicking his own gesture from earlier on. "Can I touch him?"

"Sure, that's if you don't mind 'im chewing on ya."

She stroked the puppy's head gently with her finger, and his eyes flickered with pleasure.

"So what'd you name him?"

"Akamaru."

* * *

By nightfall and after an evening full of small talk, Tenten had one less man to worry about. But still, eight remained and they all could be the end of her. Lee had placed bids to be on top of the last bunk. Tenten complied with the condition that he would not jump around while he was up there.

Fang and Akamaru had already fallen asleep by the time all the other men had hopped into a spring pool to take their baths. With fear in her mind and a pain swelling in her chest, Tenten decided not go. She was tired otherwise.

For now it was lights out and she was relatively alone except for Fang, who was slept soundly in his bunk, and another man who tied his hair up in a tight, spiked ponytail. He looked like he was asleep, but Tenten suspected otherwise.

"Hey you. Ryuu, is it?" he whispered across the room.

"Yup."

"Never got a chance to say hi; I always leave the most troublesome things last." The guy sighed, and then muttered under his breath, "What a shitty habit of yours, she says."

Yet, even through his dismissive tone, the man still conducted his words with wariness.

"I'm Nara. Shikamaru Nara," he said. Tenten could hear his head moving across his pillow. "Whereabouts are you from, anyway?"

"Uh, just around," she replied. Her voice was faltering.

"C'mon, we're all _guys _here, right?" he seemed to mutter. Tenten wasn't sure if the question was really directed to her. As she pondered this, Shikamaru yawned, and Tenten let out an inaudible squeak. Moving on to something new, Shikamaru said, "Got a girlfriend at home?"

"N-n-no…?"

"Trust me; they are a _pain _in the _neck_. Especially if they're into that fetish stuff," he moaned, yawning again. "But anyway, gotta get some shuteye. Wish you luck, Ryuu. Something tells me you're gonna need it."

Tenten quickly pulled the covers over her head and turned off her gas lamp. Tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow would be the real thing. She just prayed that she wouldn't fuck it up. Or make a fool out of herself.

_Oh well_, she thought, her heart threatening to unravel itself from her chest. _It's always good to challenge yourself._


	4. Training

At exactly six hundred hours, as promised, Tenten reported herself to the training grounds and was greeted by the ice king from registration.

"Private Ryuu Lee."

She saluted him and immediately straightened her posture from pure panic. He eyed her carefully with stoic, grey eyes.

"I'll trust that you'll notify your friends to be on _time_ tomorrow?"

"Sir!"

He took two chains from his hand, each with a little rectangular piece of metal attached to them. She took it gingerly and studied every minute detail of it. Her identification number, her name, and even her blood type. "Take it, soldier."

"And here's the one for you to give to your… friend." Aloofly, he presented her with the other trinket.

"Can't thank you enough sir! But sir, what's it for?"

"It's called a dog tag. We use it to identify you once you do something extraordinarily stupid like getting yourself killed, getting your face blown up or losing a leg. We train you _not _to do that here. So make mistakes at your own peril." It wasn't the content of the words that gave her a kind of a weird chill that trickled down her spine. Perhaps it was the monotone voice in which he said it. The choice of words almost made it seem like he was taking a stab at humour, but the way he said was otherwise more of a morbid sort than funny. He gave her a forced, tight-lipped frown. "But I trust that you won't let that happen."

"No sir, but…"

"Private. Your posture is slouching." He tapped her back twice. She was just about to raise a reflexive fist when someone decided to intervene.

"Oi, pretty boy, wait up!" Fang jogged up beside her. Quite a shock came to him before he realised she was conversing with Lieutenant Neji Hyuuga. Immediately he levelled his spine so he stood erect, identical to Tenten. "G-good morning Lieutenant, sir! I apologise for my rudeness, sir! Cutting into a conversation is unacceptable behaviour, sir!" He shot a sideways grin at Tenten. "_Or was it a scolding?_" he chuckled discreetly.

She didn't have the chance to nudge him in the ribs because of the lieutenant's eagle-like glare. Neji gave Fang another one of his scowls and excused him. He seemed to loosen up as a few more soldiers made their way to the clearing huddled around each other under the light of dawn.

When enough soldiers had come, Neji dusted off his gloves and began, "Listen up, men."

Everyone straightened their backs with their hands stuck firmly to their sides, listening to the horribly cynical speech the lieutenant had to offer. It was an odd kind of dialect he spoke. Not the shape of his expression, or his pronunciation, but his choice of vocabulary. He had a way of making you remember with cleverly wry words in a calm voice. And Tenten had to admit, it did work, and effectively at that.

At the end of his preaching, they discovered he was indeed their platoon's commanding officer, but _not _their drill instructor. The drill sergeant assigned to them was a man who was what the boys would come to call a "pushover." Sergeant Umino. He was a great man, but much too nice for his own good. So nice that within a day, he was transferred due to the fact he simply could not contain his troops to even line up in single file.

Oh, but then they ended up with Ibiki Morino. He was everything Iruka was not. Mean, unrelenting, harsh, and rough. He pounded into them the essentials of advanced discipline, the basics of hand-to-hand combat, survivalism… and then everything in between from that and, Tenten's favourite, marksmanship. Fang, who was always on one side of her (and Lee the other) would stare, either shocked or contemptuous, at her smoking gun when she had landed yet another bullseye. She never missed her mark.

In between training and breaks, the sarge would always say between puffs of a cigarette something about how fucked up their superiors were because they didn't promote him after he'd been _captured_ by the enemy, and then tortured. They never managed to juice a word out of him and he still didn't a get damned badge. Ibiki even had the scars to prove it. _And I didn't even get paid_, he would scoff.

* * *

"What say I try moving you to sniper division? You've got the eyes for it," he'd said one day, seemingly out of the blue. Her absurdly jubilant heart felt like it might rupture into a million scraps of bleeding muscle, so she remained unaffected his next remark; you could say the pride had gnawed away most of her logic. "You gotta have a few more weeks of training, but it'll be worth it. After all, you're crying useless when it comes to endurance. You're fast, but you can't run a mile without stopping to do your laces, have balls of jelly and you can't handle the butt of a rifle to save your lieutenant's life."

"Then I'll have to work on that, won't I?" she said, determined. "No, sarge. I'm staying right here."

"Hmpf," he grunted. "You're a punty runt, you know that?"

Tenten smiled.

* * *

Army life wasn't so bad once you got used to it. Tenten never _forgot _about her purpose, but had pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. She was too distracted by all the things she was doing.

In the mornings they'd go and run their usual laps with their kits on. There was one in her cabin that especially had trouble, a stocky guy who was always at the back of the bunch. He and Shikamaru seemed to be real chummy. The latter always stood by him through thick and thin… though he'd always rectify this by claiming that it would be "too bothersome to jog," thereby explaining why he always he lagged the back row next to Chouji.

The first few weeks were tough, but she eventually she found herself staring at her reflection in the pond at some sinew that began to develop around her thighs. In a few more she no longer had trouble setting up a tent. Memorising all the berries of the bush took quite a bit more time, though.

By the end of the ordeal and under Ibiki's iron fist, Tenten became faster, better, stronger. They all had, and she even started to like the food at the mess hall in which she thought of as "icky" earlier. And target practice? If only they had a month worth of shooting practices! Those trigger happy moments went by so fast for Tenten she could barely feel the time slipping through her fingers.

* * *

It'd been longer than two or three months when they'd finished their training and were called to fight. Akamaru had begun to grow from a puppy and could no longer fit into his master's pockets, so he spent most of his time frolicking under the bunk beds. Occasionally he'd sit curled up in Tenten's lap when she was thinking of home and all the boys had gone to take their baths. She skipped a wash-down whenever she needed alone time. And the men would be gone for quite a while, fooling around and splashing at each other in the water.

Then she would miss being a girl. As a girl she always smelled powdery. She showered daily, got nice food. She was treated with care. There was the occasional glance from a boy on the street she would recall with fondness.

* * *

"The burgers aren't that bad are they, Fang?"

"I keep tryin' to tell ya'! This'll prob'ly be the last time we'll get to eat 'em. Maybe it'll be the last time we'll get to eat, period."

She stopped in mid-munch and took a second to stare at him. When she finished chewing, then swallowed (as her mother had always taught her to do), she continued with her response.

"What in _hell _are you saying?"

"We all die someday. Even pretty boys like you do. Just saying that we might…"

She didn't know what it was about it that shook her, but she followed her gut reaction, anyway. Tenten stood up and slammed her fist on the table, pushing her chair over as she did. Everyone proceeded to stare at her. Lee pulled on her sleeve. "Tenten, is it nearly that time of month again?"

Tenten ignored him, and Fang watched them warily. "Hey, hey… Look, calm down, Ryuu, I was only suggesting."

"What? That we'll never see our family again and that we should just give up and _die?_"

His mouth twitched at the word _family._ "And what do _you _know about family?" And what was she supposed to say? "You know what? I'm leaving."

"Damn it." She cursed as she walked out of the hall via the other exit. Lee followed not far after.

* * *

Lee found her skimming stones at the pond. "Tenten…"

"Lee."

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Is there something _wrong_ with the way things are?"

"Is it that you're… we'll, you know."

"Say it out loud."

"In love with him?"

"No! It's anything but that."

"Cycling?"

"No!"

He thought about it for a while, he got quite a solid idea, and his pupils engorged with epiphany. "I know! You miss, you miss…" It was amusing to Tenten how impulsively Lee could spurt tears and how comically he did it. "Oh, Gai-sensei! How I miss you!"

She gave him the old pat on the back when he then continued the process to flail into her arms. When he began to linger for too long, she gave him a big kick in the shin.

"C'mon Lee, we need to get ourselves back to our cabins. We're going to go for a long march tomorrow. You'll need the sleep."

* * *

The moment Lee crept up into his bunk; he snored and nodded off like a kitten. Tenten had experienced a brief rush of nostalgia as she saw him sleep, but controlled her self and set off to find Fang as soon as Lee's blanket was under his chin.

She found him in a place he was not supposed to be, but instead by a small hole by the barbed wire. He had a small, furry creature in his arms. As she got closer, she could see that Fang attempted to set Akamaru into the wild, but failed miserably; the dog had grown too attached to him.

"Go on Akamaru, you're free now,"she heard him murmur. Tenten hesitantly stepped forward, wanting to apologise. She touched the back of his neck, and in response, he jumped, also giving the puppy quite the fright.

"_Shit, _yer pretty boy! You scared the crap out of me!"

"Oh. I didn't mean to startle you." She tried to hide her face in her collar.

"Ryuu, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I came to apologise."

He stood up and grinned at her. "Oh, _that_? Heh, no sweat… Doesn't matter anyway! We both know that we're really anxious about tomorrow, huh?"

Fang sounded nervous as she scratched the back of his head. "Well, can you tell me one thing?"

"Sure."

"Are you gay?"

"No!"

"Are you _sure_ you aren't because you seem pretty-"

She didn't hesitate to punch him in the mouth.

* * *

_Edit 19th March 2011: Edited the chapter so that Neji's character wasn't so off, and Ibiki was more well, Ibiki._

_Leaping lizards! I was in a real hurry to finish it because I've put a four day deadline on new chapters for this fic. I hope it was suffice for you guys! Thanks for reviewing the last chapter, trust me, I _really _appreciate it… This is basically just a filler chapter. I tucked in some unplanned KibaTen, but currently I'm more bent on TentenxEveryone than NejiTen. Heh. But everyone's turn will come..._

_The next chapter will be a very special one—guest/surpise appearances! Make sure you stay tuned for it. :D _


	5. The Hourglass, I

_The Hourglass_

"Is it okay if I join you?"

Without the other's say-so, the speaker sat down anyway. "Hot cocoa, compliments from Tsunade. What a legend, she can get her hands on _milk _at times like these!"

The two nurses huddled next to a window, and through it, the white moon shone, an ethereal beacon fuelled by the gathered souls of the dead soldiers who never made it home. "Who are you thinking about, Sakura?" Her thoughts seemed to drift farther away from the shore each time her eyelashes battered down on her sea-lime eyes. Ino poked her elbow incessantly in hopes of an answer. "I know, I know! You're thinking about Uchi—"

"No one in particular," she said, cutting her off, "Even if I was, it'd be none of your beeswax, miss piggy." The last sentence was hushed. Sakura was reluctant to have said it; these were the worst times for a spat, and fighting each other would directly defeat the purpose of their jobs.

"Oh, what was that?" Because it was a solemn hour, Ino did her best to pretend she had heard nothing. Strange how quickly people grew up once people started dying.

With no topic for conversation, the two girls decided to talk about the new trainee, a shy and timid girl who happened to be the daughter of Captain Hyuuga Hiashi. She was pale, outspoken, petite and polite. Most of all she was head over heels for a certain golden soldier boy who didn't quite return the favour. But he'd be quite happy to lose a limb to end up in the arms of another fellow nurse, who was as pink and fiery as they come (and she in return, would hopelessly chase after his best friend into the depths of forever).

Neverthless, the newcomer didn't seem to mind loving him from afar. She seemed to function under the mentality that if she stayed here, in the front with her hands all bloody, and did her job well, he'd come along and hopefully bump into her. It relied totally on chance, obviously, but at least it was a possibility.

Hinata Hyuuga had pretty hair, like all Hyuuga do. It was long, purplish and shiny. Ino thought it a shame that she always tied it up in a humble bun. Hair like that should be let loose, set free. It was that kind of modesty that came as such an enigma to Sakura and Ino, who were loud and boisterous, loving nothing more than gossip, and frequently fell victim to vanity.

She was a diligent worker, staying up later than any other on duty. She had a dismal smile, and talked soothingly to her patients. Hinata was only a trainee, but she had the workings of a wonderful caretaker and a perfect wife, which is why both Sakura and Ino were dazed to hear she'd never been courted in her life.

On each of their birthdays, Hinata would present them with a cloth in a frame. They were her very own flower pressings, and it would make them feel sorry for every word which they said with ill intentions about her.

And so sad were they when Hinata's training was over and she transferred to another hospital, they had cried.

The girls' bond grew strong in that abandoned abbey. It was so close to the battlefield, they could _hear _death himself. They prayed to some higher form of life that these men would survive their ordeals, and made it hidden that they hoped that they themselves might make it by the time it was over.

Soon they would also be called to the camps near the front lines too, as it was getting more difficult to transport all the injured. And heaven forbid! They were too anxious to admit that they were afraid. Of everything, the whole world that they knew could come crashing down at any second.

* * *

And it did the moment the dreaded Hourglass stepped into their domain. At least she had made a mess of it, crushed the heavens and sent crumbling shards of sky down on their heads.

She was a nightmare wrapped up in a pretty package.

The woman was wound tightly in some sort of dress, and had a strange, lusty way of walking. By heaven, they should have known she had danger spelled all over those curves, and saw her out right away. It was a wonder that they didn't.

"Well. Mr. Nara was certainly right about _you_, Ms. Piggy." The woman had smirked. One hand was occupied with a cigarette, and the other rested underneath her brimming bosom. "Hm… even so, I can't risk him actually _falling _back in love with you. So here's the deal—"

Ino tried to resist hitting the woman, but she couldn't take the smell of her heady perfume and her rich, unidentifiable accent. Sakura had to hold her back with effort. "Ino! Think about what you're about to do."

Ino ignored her. "Who are _you _to Shikamaru? What _is_ it that you want?" Ino growled, arms flown towards the ceiling. Sakura wanted to wipe away Ino's tears when they came because she sure as hell looked like she was about to. But if she let go of one of her arms, all hell would break loose. And that could not happen, for everyone's sake. "You can't just barge in here unannounced and just expect me to—to—" Ino seethed, unaware of the buildup of brine under her eyes.

"But I have," the stranger said. "Look, dearie. Stay away from my Shikamaru, clear?"

"What the hell do you mean?"

"Didn't Shikamaru tell you, well, we—"

"That's _enough!_" The voice of reason came from no other than Sakura. "You've already stirred us up enough. I don't know what it is you want with us, but please leave before we make you do so."

Sakura grabbed the hysterical Ino's shoulders and dragged her along the hallway, back to their quarters. The mystery woman had nothing more to say. The lady let her smoke descend to the cracked marble tiles, and stepped on it. The dying ember was only trace she left for the girls before Tsunade could reach her.

At the time, they had no clue she was the sister of the deadly sandman. Her demonic status was only withheld by a single man for whom she felt inexplicable affection. She didn't know why or how she had managed to stumble into that dreaded maukishness she so detested, but she did know that the rumours that surrounded her were true to the very last lick of depravity.

She was ruthless. She would do anything to get her way. She was the most loved woman on this earth, but one who never returned the favour.

She was a goddess of the little death, and you could ride to _hell_ between those thighs.

* * *

At the same time and day not long ago, Tenten marched with her fellow comrades marched onward to their fates. Lucid moments like those would gradually disintegrate by the time of the arrival of the Hourglass.

* * *

_You just guess who that hourglass is! Nothing is feminist enough without a femme fatale. :D_

_And I think I'm going to edit this fic after I finish it, my style changes every time I write a new chapter, and I'd imagine it'd be really bumpy to read that way._


	6. Boar

BOAR

The exhausted soldiers enjoyed a feast tonight, huddled around the sweet warmth of the campfire. They all ate themselves some nice, warm, slightly sweetened pork, courtesy of Tenten and her rifle. But as for the fact that the poor boar was edible was credited to Chouji, who always kept a steady stash of sugar and spice in his day kit. That aside, he was the only one out of the whole platoon who knew how to start a spitroast. To further the menu available, gracious Naruto had finally ripped open a few of his many packets of packaged noodles, and passed around the hot soup to share.

"You know," Chouji mumbled in between hearty and untimely chews, "I used to be the greatest chef in my village."

Tenten did her best to sound interested, but her mind was occupied with more trifling matters. Like how the wild boar was the first living organism she'd ever killed.

She was feeling hungry and dejected that morning after weeks of marching, and naturally, seeing something rustling in the bushes warmed her blood with lust. She had decided at that moment that no matter what came out of there, she was going to kill it. And she did, because she was a woman of her word. But after that certain lapse of bloodlust the remorse settled in, and it struck her with a profound unsettling within her heart.

It fell on its back, and she could see that it was in pain. She saw it inhale heavily, trying desperately to cling onto what little life it had left, but each breath drew it closer to its death. Then she knew it was dead when it stopped squealing, and the blind _rage _in its eyes just... faded away. That was the moment she was sure that everything had a soul, or something like it.

"Oi, oi, don't you want a taste of the miracle you just caught us?" Fang exclaimed. He had been in such good spirits lately. Tenten tried to smile, and had no doubt that his mood had been affected by Akamaru's promotion, of sorts. The big pup had been found and proclaimed their mascot, and Fang his handler. "You're practically a goddamn hero!"

"Don't really want it," she said. "But thanks."

She ripped her portion in half and gave a piece to Akamaru, who happily gobbled it down. She sprinkled a munificent helping of salt over the rest of the meat before she packed it up for later use.

"Are you serious? You oughta eat that. It's still warm! You know how rarely we have warm food out on the road. Let alone meat_._"

There _were _times when she would want nothing more than to blow his entire raving head off. And these urges came more often with Fang than Lee, so her intuition must have been desperately trying to tell her _something_.

"Even the old geezer's makin' love with the thing! …In his mouth!"

She looked at where Fang was pointing. The "old geezer" Fang was referring to, was a peddler that wouldn't stop following the army around, trying to sell his poorly printed bundles of mint-condition erotica. They were coloured, which is a rare thing indeed to come by (not to mention paper) but the ink ran all over the place and the content left too much to the imagination. By sexually deprived young men's standards, anyway. And the cost, too!

He was however willing to trade the thin pleasure pamphlets for a decent scrap of food, maybe a pint of beer and sometimes even a good story or two. Today the soldiers had been presented with that same challenge he'd offered only seldom before.

"I've had my food and drink," he bellowed with a drunken slur, "Thanks to you horny rascals, as this has prob'ly been the one of the best days of my life. So while I'm in my good mood, if at least one of ya tells me a decent story, each an' ev'ry one of you'll get a copy of my newest novella. And I haven't even gone to the best part… It comes with an exclusive pin-up pullout…!"

"A-an exclusive pin-up pullout…?" Naruto could not contain himself.

Naruto sat there for a minute in deep thought. "Crap, I've got nothing!"

Sasuke tried to suppress a rumble of laughter with one hand wound around his own stomach and the other pointing a mocking finger at Naruto. "You're a virgin, aren't you?"

The insulted drew a deep breath as his cheeks began to flush beet red. "Then if you're such a lady's man, why don't _you _show and tell?"

_"Men," _Tenten quietly scoffed under her breath, but the boys were too worked up now to hear what she had to say.

"Yeah, paleface! Give us a good one then!" An excited howl escaped Fang's mouth. Sasuke smirked one of those patronising smirks after brushing a few loose bangs to the side of his face. "If you insist. But don't think I'd be without the courtesy to go first. After you, _Fang._"

Fang's face dropped in an instant. "Garh!" He spat.

The rest of them shook their heads, lost in jumbled thought. Most of them soon realised that there were no girls that have ever loved them, save for their darling mothers. But with those that did, they carried too much consideration for their fine women to deface them at a time and place such as this.

"Hey, Shikamaru!" Chouji nudged his friend. "I know you've got a girl back home-"

Shikamaru waved his hand away, covering his hand over his forehead. "Not now, Chouji."

So none of these men had any sort of story to tell. Tenten knew Lee possessed the memory of their awkward first time, but like Shikamaru he was a decent young man and kept quiet throughout.

"That is enough! I'd thought you respectable men, but it seems the majority of you are still insolent boys," the fiery Hyuuga paused to make eye contact with his now hefty audience, "You feel proud ratting out our girls back home like this?"

A deafening silence followed the departure of the lieutenant. Many who were rowdy and boastful a minute ago hung their heads in shame upon hearing what he had to say. And Tenten couldn't help but stare at him in surprise... Who would've thought such a stiff man had such consideration for the female population?

"Well, what's this? It's an army of virgins!" Jiraiya broke into a throaty laugh, and all was rather lively again. "Well boys, you've shown me food and drink," Jiraiya rubbed his belly and burped, "So I'll show you bastards a litta piece of 'eaven. For all of ya who've not tasted love, oh, you'll have'a sip to'night!"

There was not a man there who Jiraiya missed. Every soldier present that night managed to get their hands on their very own pocket-sized sin.

With that, almost everyone agreed that it'd been the best day ever since the start of their journey.

* * *

After lights out, the boys were still messing with their torches, now having completely forgotten Neji's thoughtful little speech. Their eyes were skimming over the generous helping of two-dimensional breasts printed upon the page. Only a few showed proper decency and chose not to indulge, such as the offbeat Shikamaru who laid on his side and fell asleep, and the assumingly shy Shino, who did the same.

Lee sat on the top bunk with Tenten, and like many the others stared at the paper with intensity. However it was not with curiosity that he gazed at it, but confusion. "Well, it's not like that at all!" he said. He innocently turned his head towards Tenten. "Do you still remember when we...?"

Flames were dancing across her face. "W-what you think? Wait, what am I...? Shhhh!"

Of course she remembered! How could a girl ever forget? "Lee, this isn't the time!"

"Ah, but I thought you forgotten," he explained with a fond sigh, "But my youthful Tenten never forgets!"

Her palm met her forehead with a loud slap. "It's Ryuu, not Tenten."

Lee seemed to consider it better that he discontinued his line of thought, as he wisely didn't speak another word about earlier days past.

* * *

Long after the camp fell silent, Tenten was still awake in her bed. Thinking about that poor animal that died under her hands and every last detail about _that_.

The first thing that came to mind was how she'd tried to undo Lee's belt but failed miserably and got it stuck. Seriously, Lee didn't even wear belts, so why did he have to put on jeans that one time when it was least appropriate? Her heart skipped once she recalled the moment when they stopped right in the middle after a rather load moan on her part and _he_ had to make it worse by asking her if she was alright. Funny how he thought she was in pain just when it started to feel rather good.

"Lee," she mumbled with a glum frown.

He had to bring it up. He just had to! Grabbing a hold of her flattish pillow she muffed it over her head.

No, it was not that she regretted the deed. It actually held its place in her heart as one of her fondest memories. It was just the fact that he had brought it up _now _that bothered her, where anyone could have heard.

* * *

They had been in the army for perhaps a little over half a year now, but their feet never got used to the march ahead. People grew tired and grumpy. There soon never seemed to be enough food to go around, and soon the lingering taste of the delectable meat they feasted on that happy night began to disappear from their mouths.

"My friggin' feet!" Fang whined with a stronger curse under his breath.

"How long has it been since we stopped to rest? I feel like a goddamn cow."

"I've got blisters on my blisters."

More and more soldiers started to join in the synchronised nag, but suddenly a voice broke out from the crowd. It belonged to that aspiring knucklehead they all hated to love, Naruto.

"C'mon guys! Think positive. Think of instead... a... uh, girl worth fighting for!"

A few turned their heads with a dubious glare. "Huh?"

"That's what I said, a girl worth fighting for!"

Interested to see where the conversation would go, Tenten crossed her arms and asked the flaxen soldier to continue. So, Naruto began:

"I want her paler than the moon, with eyes that shine like..."

"Emeralds?" Sasuke snickered. Naruto poked his friend in the ribs.

"My girl will marvel at my strength," Shikamaru declared sarcastically, "_adore _my battle scars."

"Pfft, for real?" Fang laughed, actually taking him seriously and missing the sarcasm that drenched his voice.

Asuma grinned at the younger man, lifting up two fingers. "He already has two."

Now, Fang was speechless, and it was Chouji's turn to speak. "Well I couldn't care less what she wears or what she looks like... it only depends on what she cooks like!"

"Hah, I bet the local girls thought you were quite the charmer."

Fang flashed his wolfish grin and directed Tenten with his chin a cluster of girls, watching her behind their blushes and fancy hats. She didn't quite know what to say.

Soon the volume of the men's bantering became much to loud for Neji's taste. So he raised his voice and spoke.

"Gentlemen, what is it you are yabbering on about that is obviously much more important than your duties?" Lieutenant Neji asked, tall, superior but most of all, impeccable as always. He raised a slender brow, and the humbled solders immediately quivered with dread.

"N-n-nothing, sir! Just about the girls back home..." Naruto jittered. Lt. Neji's face lit up a little.

"Yeah, we was! Innocent fun, that's all. Sir, you have a girl back home?" Fang questioned with an escalating level of mischief raising in his voice. Neji's lips twitched mechanically into what was supposed to be a smile.

* * *

_Sorry, it has been so long since I updated! Don't worry; I'll definitely finish this fic. 500 percent sure of that! Since it's been a while since I worked on this, well my style has changed yet again and the enthusiasm and inspiration I had then has dispersed. But not entirely... it is definitely redeemable. Hm, we'll wait and see. _

_This is a double update - another chapter of Once has been updated, too. Go and have a look if that suits your fancy. I might declare About a Heroine as on a hiatus as there seems to be generally, no interest in it. However I'll be serious about updating when chapter 7 is posted so stay tuned!_

_Old summary here: Our little soldier girl marches off to war under the guise of a man. She's all about camaraderie, feminism and love in the face of adversity. And you'll never forget her. Expect love triangles, surprise pairings, shounen/shoujo-ai!_


	7. Awkward

AWKWARD

Even though he was challenged with an odd question indeed, Lieutenant Neji tried his best to avoid any more awkwardness to come.

"No," he started slowly, "but I presume..."

"...women are troublesome?" Shikamaru finished groggily for him. "Well, you presumed right."

Poor Neji had no time to counteract when Fang threw an unruly arm around his commanding officer's neck.

"What in the heck are you doing? You wanna lose our dinner?" Tenten muttered.

Again, Neji made a poor attempt at a smile. "I presume that women... well, I can't say." It was clear that he was not well-versed in the social elements of colloquial conversation, but he did seem to try. "Rather, what an odd question! Did it ever stike you that someone mightn't have the time for such things?"

Fang made a chortled, low growl. "Really?"

"Hm, affirmative," said Neji, ever so slightly cocking his head, "But it seems, according to my intel, that they are worth the trouble, Shikamaru."

"Maybe you're right, sir. But I dunno..."

"Well, I presume I will just have to see for myself," Neji said matter of factly, "Suppose when this war is over I would like to marry."

"Hey! There're aplenty of babelicious bachelorettes where I come from, boss."

Tenten was ill at ease at Fang's somewhat objective comment, but attempted conversation nevertheless. For the purpose of "blending in", Tenten tried to involve herself in the conversation. "So... uh, what sorta girl are you lookin' for anyway?" she said.

Neji ran his hand over his hair, lips thinning. "That is an embarrassing question, Ryuu. But it matters not as long there are certain affections in place, is that not so? And of course, there is the question of whether or not my uncle approves. And I will tell you, Hiashi is not one easily pleased."

"Oh." She nodded understandably.

"Sir, how long you think it'll take us to get where we're going?" A voice called from behind before Tenten could speak up with her next question.

"Excuse me, Ryuu," Neji pardoned himself. Tenten thought it amazing how he could remember their names so quickly.

And so, the march onward continued, and eventually Tenten knew that she was indeed in the company of friends. What better way was there to bond than to man-bitch? Food still gradually became scarce, but it wasn't like that was something new anyway.

* * *

Were they ever going to get where they headed? Tenten mused upon this one night while bathing in that pool. She'd always wait to take her bath when all the other men were long done and fast asleep. This significantly cut down the quality of her beauty sleep but by far the chore was well worth it.

Besides, Tenten hadn't once been endangered until _now. _

Yes, _he_ had to be late today. From across the shimmering water, she could clearly see the silhouette of a trim man with iconic, protracted tresses draped over his shoulder.

"Shit!" she cursed, diving head first into attempted shelter. Unfortunately the splash caused her unwanted companion to twist his dainty head and face her way. Even worse, Lieutenant Neji could recognise that meek little figure anywhere, and began to advance toward her. As he moved closer she sleeked deeper into the pool, making strenuous effort to cover her exposed breasts. Perhaps he hadn't seen?

Oh, who was she kidding? That's it, she thought. She was done for. Her soldiering life was over. No longer could she watch over Lee. And she was just starting to make some new...

"Ryuu, it's late."

"U-uh, _yeah_."

She retreated back until she hit a rock. _Ouch. _She rebounded, grabbed a lily and put it over her front. Oh god, she hoped he had bad eyesight, or alternatively just... clueless. But how could the latter _be_? With those _arms_, those _eyes_ and that _neck... _she was sure he... well, quite practised with a woman's anatomy. In fact the only good thing that came of the situation was feasting upon such fine eye candy. Droplets of water glistened over that skin, and his hair was slicked back and wet and...

"A soldier must always find time for sleep. I advise you do so." Neji cut through her train of thought.

"Y-yessir..."

"Grogginess will grant you nothing but a decline in accuracy and speed, the leading causes of death here. Don't die on me, it's an order."

"U-uh, yeah. Okay."

"Okay? That's 'okay', _sir._"

"Yessir... sir!"

With another one of his jerky half-grins he placed a hand on her shoulder. "And get some meat on those bones. You're thinner than Uchiha." Neji's wet hand slid off her wet skin, as he turned himself around. "Carry on."

It was almost too much when she felt his hip brush against her thigh, but she suppressed the shriek with an audible gulp. The tension never ceased until she heard a few slaps of water here and there, then eventually the sound of him wading to the banks. _Then _she could release a sigh of relief, and quickly swim the other direction.

* * *

The next morning Tenten quickly found that after she had quietly devoured her meal, the cook (who, as luck would have it, could not start a spit-roast) was staring at her. It wasn't just a normal glance either. It was the kind that could burn holes through you if that kind of thing was possible. The cook was rather intimidating already with his brimming belly, somewhat depraved grin and crooked-everything... but having him _watching _her like that was just downright shrilling.

"Dude, he's looking this way. Wonder why he's doin' that," Fang noted with coy grin. Tenten had no time for his half-arsed leers, and rewarded his derision by not-so-lightly pushing his face toward the ground.

"Shut _up_, he's coming!"

His exclamation of _shit _was cut short as the cook prepared to rise and Fang made do with a submissive duck of his head. The giant trudged toward them, lopsided like a maladroit dinosaur.

"You there," the cook called, "What was yer name ah-gin?"

Tenten pointed shakily at herself. "M-me?"

"Yes you! Answer me question!"

"I-it's Ryuu, sir..."

"Eh, whawasat? Speak up, laddie."

"Ryuu, sir!" she repeated, louder this time.

The poor girl barely had time to reply as the cook seized her can of grey goo and replaced it with a plate. On it was a warm slab of meat. The sound of metal cluttered nicely onto the plate, and a scrumptious aroma rose about the hearty clump of heaven. Fang let out a sound akin to a howl.

"Meat!" Fang cried with childish zest. The cook put his hand in front of the hungry soldier's face.

"Ain't for yoo, kid. 'S for him. I got special orders from the boss," the cook croaked, wiping his greasy hands on his apron. "He ain't so bad once 'ye get to know 'im. I keep tryin' to tell these folks but they dun believe me. But you do, dunchya, Bones?"

"I-I-I guess. Yeah... You're right," said Tenten, poking the meat with her fork. The lieutenant was _serious _about this?

But the cook did not stop there. He turned on storybook mode, grabbed his right leg with both feet and lifted it up onto the log. Both Tenten and Fang instantly fell repentant for having mocked the chef earlier, as now they realised that he was in fact, a cripple with no more than one leg.

"Yer see here, boys? Not long ago, the boss and I were servin' in the same platoon together. I was down - soom bastard had me in the leg. He was jussa low rankin' foot trooper like yoo two then. I thought it was arl over. I was sayin' me last prayers and cryin' like a baby, yellin 'mama, mama' before someone grabbed me by the shoulders. 'Hang on!' I heard im' yell. And then he was roonnin', roonnin' real fast. Swift as a bird he was, even with deadweight like me loaded on 'im," He paused and let out a chortled laugh, "I may not look it, but I weigh much moor than yer average man!"

Tenten already had her hands over her mouth and her eyes watering at the edges. Fang's wolfish grin, for once, had dropped to an expression of solemn understanding before he set eyes on her. His companion's face gave him a strange feeling. His gut was wrenching, but why?

The narrator, now worked up, paid neither of them any attention as he was now entirely caught up in his epic chronicle to notice.

"Oh, that's such a touching story! What happened next? And surely being after being shot you wouldn't have been very conscious. How'd you know it was him?"

"Well, it sure was the boss cause' no one else in the army had hair the length of Rapunzel's that smelt of lilies."

His miniscule audience gave a little laugh. He continued.

"An' while I was slipping in and oot of life, he was soothin' me. I dunno what he said as I was concentratin' on stayin' awake, but all the way to safety he spoke ta me. Next thing I knew I was awake with people we knew lyin' half-dead in beds next ta me. I reached for me leg, an' it wasn't there. Panic hit me, but the nurse, a pretty young thing, kept tellin' me that Mr. Hyuuga had paid every cent for my replacement - Titanium alloy. And ere' she is folks, what a beauty."

The proud survivor tapped his artificial limb, and put it back on the ground, but not before Fang asked to touch it.

"Goddamn deserved the medal and rank he got. I don't just owe that young man my life..." The cook stopped talking and tipped his head in contemplation, stroking his stubble as if to stimulate a memory. "Come to think of it, boss's turnin' eighteen this year, an' that means he was a wee lad of sixteen when he signed up for the war. What gallantry! Only the bravest sacrifice themselves for their country like that."

"Oh, I never knew that'd he'd be such a hero given that he's kind of-" Tenten commented, but abruptly stopping after realising that Neji was approaching. Fang stayed silent.

"...Prissy an' stuck oop with a stick shooved oop his arse?" the chef finished for her, not aware the subject of their conversation was right behind them. "I hafta agree with yoo both there, but nevertheless, he's a good-"

"I'm pleased you think that of me, comrade."

Neji had an amused air plastered over his face, and the prettiest of grins was worn upon his lips.

"B-boss! Oh, look at the time, lads! I'd better get goin' or yer lunch'll git cold!" With that he left with unexpected speed. A sprinting hobble, almost.

Neji turned his head to see the man off with the grace of a grand prince, and then back to where Tenten and Fang were at.

"Enjoying your meal?" he asked politely, waiflike he joined them on the log. "I _am _sorry to disturb you."

"Oh no, not at all, sir!" Tenten gushed. Fang still remained speechless.

"You want me to fix you with something else?"

It took a moment before Tenten realised that he thought she was referring to her food.

"He meant that you ain't disturbin' us at all, sir," Fang explained for her.

"Right. To be honest I haven't started to-"

"Then do so right away," he said.

"Y-yes sir..."

And so she took the cutlery the chef had leant her and cut the steak as Fang and Akamaru watched on longingly. Tenten felt uncomfortable under Neji's gaze, but simply avoided it until the plate was clean. She sent a few words of gratitude his way before she had realised he was already long gone.

* * *

As they stood to leave their log, Fang quickly grabbed hold of her chin, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Hey," he muttered, "You looked a lot like... someone I knew, back at lunch..." And inattentively he garbled even softer, "There's only one time I've ever seen her cry."

After a nervous jerk, Tenten regained her poise. "So? What about it? I probably look a lot like other girls..."

Oh, no. That wasn't quite the wording she was going for. Fang laughed her off as he always did and slipped his hand off of her, but he didn't forget that he too was vulnerable.

* * *

_Right! Hiatus is over. I'm going to try and update this until after the holidays are over, which then I will probably go on hiatus for another month (preparing for and doing exam week) if I do not finish this by then. Expect the plot to sort of 'pick up' after this chapter. Sorry about how the chappie is kind of short and really crappy, though._


	8. Phantoms

PHANTOMS

Fang slept most restlessly that night, haunted by living phantoms of his past that chased him down in his dreams.

His mother sprung towards him, always running, always running, never catching up. Fang wasn't sure whether or not he was running towards her or away; they seemed to just move in circles, while his sister wept on the sidewalk. Her image, always clutching that dog, reappeared every few minutes. Were they really running across a sphere or...?

His chest burned with fatigue, and Fang wanted nothing more that to turn back and embrace his family. Take his mother with his left arm and sister the right. He wanted to scoop them up, tell them it was going to be alright and go home, all in time for dinner. It was all he wanted, but his muscles did not grant him rest, nor did the road, which seemed to shift right under his feet. Perhaps reaching her would be an act that defied the very rules of the universe, a goal he could not achieve unless he leapt into the time-space continuum itself and set things right.

Oh dear; it was apparent that Fang wasn't going to wake up anytime soon.

Things made a turn for the worse when a wolf, dark, bloody and twisted, pulled himself out of thin air. He let himself be known and howled behind his mother. Fang shot back as she let out a shrill scream, one that shattered the glass above his head. It was his name she called, and Fang's ears began to sting. He put a hand to the side of his face. Blood.

_Run! _his mind had screamed at him.

Before long his sibling stopped appearing at the intervals and Fang was left all alone. The loneliness all but consumed him as he ran the marathon with no end, rabid werewolf flanking his tail.

Not surprisingly, the road offered no clues, and it became obvious that the as the only method of escape was consciousness - which was abruptly granted to him by a gentle nipping of his ear. Groggily, he opened his eyes to Akamaru's mud smeared nose at his cheek, and the genteel touch of someone's hand shaking him awake.

A familiar voice called from the left, "Get up! Something's going on!"

"Hana? Hana, is that you? Where's ma? I can't..."

He clung to that beacon of warmth beckoning from the side. "I wanna go home! I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he cried. Tighter he muffled his face into the chest he thought was his sister's. This feat was met with a timely slap across the face, and succeeded to transport him back to reality.

"What in the hell is wrong with you?" his friend barked at him. Softy the next time round, "Get a grip! It's _me_, Fang. Are you right?"

"Shit! That was you, Ryuu? Thought you were..."

"Your sister? Mother?"

Ryuu laughed then, relieving some of Fang's uneasiness. He shakily drew a hand to the side of his face in embarrassment, turning away from his companion to the panorama of a pinkish twilight breaking over a small countryside town. The residency was situated snugly beneath a hill. Tenten nodded over to their lieutenant who was quietly rousing the soldiers one by one. "We've been issued an ambush on that village there. It's been occupied by the enemy," she reported.

"Oh, no... I'm not gonna have no part in it," Fang said.

"Why?" she scoffed, "You chicken?"

Fang shook his head, slowly. "The people you are, y'know... The good guys can get hurt an' all that, it's our countrymen in there."

"Which is why you should've worked on your aim," she said. True, that.

But before she could say anything else to try and ease up his anxiety, Sasuke on her left nudged her and told her to "shut up", pointing over to where Neji was making an announcement.

"Everyone," the lieutenant began, "First of all, I want all of you to pair off with a buddy or two. Look out for each other while you're out there, and most importantly keep them alive. Do not stray off too far on your own. Under the circumstances that you lose your buddy, immediately take cover and remain as well hidden as possible."

He turned toward the chef and cracked a smile. The receiver was made to bashfully look away. "It may seem to you a futile chore, but trust that it is valuable tool instead. The significance of camaraderie should not be underestimated. Do your best out there, men." Closing his eyes for a moment, Neji exhaled deeply before he went on to explain the details of their mission.

In a rather perturbed state of mind, Fang found it incredibly difficult to concentrate. He failed to completely catch the details of the mission, only staring detachedly at his wobbling hands. The dream—no, nightmare, had on him a lasting effect. All he managed to hear was a short "that's all" before snapping out of his nervous haze.

"I don't think I feel too good," said Fang. The remark was directed towards Tenten, but another voice answered him instead.

"It happens often on your first time, for veterans too. But don't worry, you'll get used to it sooner or later."

The older man had a cigarette held between his lips and kind, calm eyes. Neither Fang nor Tenten recalled ever speaking to this man.

"I'm sorry; your name seems to have slipped my mind, sir," she said.

"Y-yeah, me too. Sorry, who're you?" Fang added, less politely than Tenten had done.

"And I don't recall ever having the pleasure of meeting you either, sons. The name's Sarutobi Asuma, third-in-command after Kakashi. Just transferred here from the tenth battalion since I heard you folks needed some help here," Asuma explained to them, before embarking on a rather lengthy process of listing his experiences with his impressive arsenal of different weapons.

Blah, blah—Tenten could handle them too. No biggie. But men of course, always had to flaunt their talents. It was terribly tedious, but Tenten was a well-brought up young woman who had to deal with that kind of triviality often. She was immune to it, and so just understandably nodded her head without _actually _listening to what he had to say.

As for Fang, well, it seemed he couldn't pay proper attention to anything he should've that day, anyway. Instead, a colourful butterfly had caught his eye, its wings speckled with a fascinating array of hues.

"Ah, so that's why I haven't seen you around much," she said in a voice that sounded interested enough. Fang proceeded to stay silent, unlike his usual self. Tenten nodded slowly, to show Asuma that she'd received all that information.

"That's right. And you two rascals are...?" Asuma asked her.

"It's Ryuu, sir," she replied. Asuma tolerantly waited for an answer from absentminded Fang, before Tenten went to her own measures to snap in back into attention. He replied with a grunt of agitation, and mumbled his name.

"Fang, sir."

"Ryuu and Fang huh? Either of you want some of this?" He held a flask toward her fingers in an offering gesture. "It'll calm the nerves and help with the throbbing."

"No thanks, sir. I don't drink."

Asuma smiled at her. "Whatever you say, kid. But you will have to soon enough. And you, son?" he offered, tapping Fang on the shoulder. His response was a slow shake of the head.

Just when Tenten was about to open her mouth again to speak, a third person made their way into the conversation.

"Ryuu. You are to stick with me," Neji announced to her. "I need to heap some extra attention on you, as you are extraordinarily small."

"You mean _I'm _your buddy?" she laughed. Amusement soon turned to disgust as she realised he was being perfectly serious. Tenten chose to deny the fact that their lieutenant might have paired up with her because that they were the only two left over; she resented him for using it as a chance to insult her, even if unintentionally.

Fang jeered at her before moving away toward Shino, his left hand man, but she ignored him. It was the first time he was anything but sulky that day.

"Affirmative," Neji replied. "Now, come."

Though mildly irritated by the "extra attention", Tenten still followed.

"So you're familiar with how the plan will commence?" Neji asked casually.

"Hey, you know, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover," Tenten mumbled, ignoring his earlier question. Neji merely turned toward her with gentle distain, which lead her to click her tongue with displeasure. But as irate she may've been, Tenten thought it a good time to be swallowing her pride.

With no further imput, Neji signalled for his troops to softly move forward, using the shrubbery surrounding the town for cover. Tenten could see Shino and Fang crouching in front of her, and Naruto and Sasuke to her left. Shikamaru and Chouji kept behind a bush to her right, and all was quiet except for a few birds that liberally chirped away their little hearts.

"Remember not to aim for the citizens. Do your best not to harm them," he reminded her. She paid him no mind, for she was scouting for a certain someone. Where was Lee? Even though being situated next to a capable officer, her anxiety could not be stilled unless she knew Lee was safe.

"Sir, have you an idea where Lee is?" she whispered.

Neji silently pointed to the far left, and Tenten had to endure a wave of guilt for leaving him with such a dodgy-looking man. What kind of man with a scar over his right eye _couldn't _get away with looking completely intimidating? She'd never quite dared to speak to the man with looks that could kill but...

"He's in good hands," Neji assured her. "Kakashi's one of the best the army's ever seen."

"But by god! What on earth happened to him?"

"Kakashi is quite the renowned veteran from the last war, but has turned down all offers of promotion. No one quite knows what happened back then. All his closest comrades that might of given us any information have passed honourably in combat," he said, halting his speech briefly before swapping subjects, "Now, be as still as possible. We are about to infiltrate the village."

* * *

The next few moments (seconds, minutes?) were particularly confusing for everyone. Neji made a few gestures and everyone came caving in toward the cabins. The town watchmen and soldiers on duty began shooting at them in vain, and screams then erupted from all around. The sound of women screeching and children bailing were deafening, not to mention the gunfire; bullets never stained her ears so brusquely that in a singular moment she was sure she would die from the paralysing pitch alone.

She wasn't a soldier. She wasn't a killer. She was just a girl, and she couldn't bring herself to do it.

A few bodies piled up in front of her, all of whom she was tentative to attack. But of course, her good old buddy was there to help. Tenten was in a temporary state of shock, before Neji grabbed her collar uncharacteristically roughly and led her forward.

Adrenaline rushed through her veins, and it was difficult to see anything clearly in the bloody ambience around her. All she could do was trudge behind Neji as he cleared a path for the both of them, and wonder: when did the village become so spacious, so colossal? Tenten swore that they'd been running for hours on end.

It did not take her long to be drained of both ambition and stamina. Tenten reached desperately for the back of Neji's uniform.

"I-I can't do it!" she exclaimed, exasperated.

Neji cut back to her sharply.

"But you must! It's too late now!" he yelled in reply. As he did so, Tenten's eyes engorged. In a matter of cosmic decimals, she lifted her rifle over her head and dispelled an enemy soldier's attempt to decapitate her commanding officer. It was for a second, just enough time for him to stumble back on his feet, which she hesitated to finish off the man.

But in another rushed move, she had pierced his flesh with the bayonet. It was almost an automatic reflex. Him or Neji, only one could live. His face was met with pain for just a fluttering moment, before his body had finished computing that the blade had stuck him right through. She supposed then that he had died.

"Jesus Christ, lieutenant!" she screamed at him. Tenten wiped some sweat off her brow, her fingers shaking. "You're going to get us all killed!"

Coolly, Neji recomposed himself, dusting off his uniform. "That's my _job_, soldier," he said. "But I suppose you do deserve commendation for fighting like you did."

No, no, no. It was all wrong. It was his job to keep them _alive_, not lead them to death! Thoughts fleeted as quickly as the life from the dead soldier. Neji took a hold of her wrist and turned her to squat in a natural gulley.

"Just snipe the rest of them if you can't keep up," he ordered.

"I can so!" she replied hotly, running rashly into the middle of now relatively tame battlefield. The adrenaline had finally kicked in, and it made her invincible. She saw Lee wrestling with some burly foe, and she ran to his side to help. She assumed he had no more ammo, so she put in a shot for him. The recoil was worse than before, and there was a brief moment of petrifaction after the blast before she could run to Lee's side. The second man she had slain. But it was the same case again and again: it was him or Lee.

* * *

"Lee!" she cried. "Lee! Are you alright?"

The boy's head whipped to her, overjoyed as they had both made it through the final wave. He hugged her, _hard_.

"We made it, Tenten, oh we made it!" he said.

"Oh, Lee," she gasped, "I can't breathe!"

"Tenten?" muttered Neji. "But that's a..."

The two reunited friends were too deeply immersed in their celebration to pay him any mind. All the men took off their hats and danced around, rejoicing their very first victory.

So Neji ignored the fact that Ryuu was hiding something. He waved off the other name Lee had called him by and brushed off the memory of how he had flashed a pair of what seemed to be breasts. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind to deal with another time.

But he knew, he knew deep down inside that something was not quite right about Ryuu.

* * *

_So! I'm back! Earlier than you guys expected, huh? A shorter chapter too. I can't seem to get the action right, grr! So... how's everyone feel at about one chapter per week from now on?_

_In other news, I've expanded my blueprint to a considerable size... uh, around 30 chapters? I've written extensive drafts up to chapter 13-14 ish, also. Andddd... it's official, the rating will go up in a few chapters time._


	9. Victory

VICTORY

After the virgin platoon's first victory, the men prepared yet again another banquet to celebrate a job well done. They had walked their way out of a battle with no fatalities and very few injured.

It wasn't difficult preparing the food. The men interspersed within the small country town and found much of the supplies they needed. Bread, herbs, vegetables and livestock were all offered by the "eternally grateful" residency.

As the silhouette of dark peaked, many flocked to the bonfire burning in the centre of all the barns and played games of poker, hacky-sack and chess. Friends shared toasts and everyone chipped in to sing their war songs. For even a rural area the army benefited from quite a few spoils presented to them by the indebted villagers - tin, watches, and shiny trinkets for the girls back home.

The lieutenant however did not contribute to the rowdy merriment; he had no taste for parties. Instead he coolly sat in front of the fire as soldiers danced to and fro, thanking him again and again for leading them to their survival. It wasn't known to them that could only worsen from there, but Neji, he refused to be the one to tell it to them.

Out of boredom, Neji soon found himself accidentally eavesdropping on some comrades dining beside him. One of them had been his buddy for the most recent battle.

It was a conversation not uncommon for soldiers fresh from their first battle, that one talk concerning the touchy subject of death.

* * *

"I killed two men today."

Lee offered Tenten a boiled egg he had peeled for her already. "Protein," Lee mumbled. "Eat."

She took the food reluctantly and held it up to her mouth, chewing slowly. Lee watched her eat with an increasingly anxious look.

"It is alright that you did what you did. You tried your best to protect me."

She rested her chin on her hand and sighed. "How about you, how many?"

Lee's face was blank; he couldn't honestly remember. He ran his fingers through his short hair. "I don't – I-I..." he stuttered. "I cannot remember. I am afraid I have no wish to do so either, Tenten."

"Oh." She shrunk. "I'm sorry."

"Please, do not be!" Lee gushed politely."

Tenten attempted a smile. "And it's _Ryuu_, remember?"

* * *

"Out in the battlefield, as you know, you don't _kill _for the sake it. It's not enjoyable, and there is no right thing to do," Neji offered. His sudden participation in the conversation proved to have had stirred and startled the two, who shifted uncomfortably in their spots upon his arrival.

"Y-you are saying that we do it simply to survive, sir?" Lee asked of him.

"No. I am merely suggesting that you leave the issue to contemplate when you have the time to spare. Questioning your role here, now, will not only deter your success in a battle but render you immune to the brief periods of amity between them, too. I advise you to both to enjoy the festivities while you can."

"You're the one to talk," Tenten muttered. Neji shrugged; he simply didn't click with the concept of merrymaking. In fact, he didn't even know how it worked, exactly, and trying to would only frustrate him further rather than fill him with joy (like it was reportedly supposed to).

A fourth voice chimed in. It was Asuma, positive and fatherly as always. "Then you plan to just sit here the entire night like a frail little wallflower, is that right?" he said.

Tenten shot him a self-explanatory glare as a reply.

Neji decided to retreat into the background to let his senior conduct the much needed comfort party.

"Then have a pint," Asuma offered. "C'mon, it's a dare."

He suddenly paced to a barrel full of freshly brewed beer, and with an advertently loud voice announced that a contest was to be held.

What the bloody hell had he gotten them into?

"S-sir?" Lee stammered, "May I ask what you are trying to do?"

"I am teaching you kids how to have some fun."

"If it's anyone who needs to be taught, it oughta be him," Tenten huffed. Asuma chuckled and ruffled her hair, muttering something too soft for them to hear.

With manly oomph, Asuma rounded up all the men and villagers scattered nearby. One could easily tell that this was not the first time he had done something like it, for within their numbers he found a rather large quantity of volunteers with a snap of his fingers. As soon as he had a satisfactory amount of noise he began to explain the rules—last one left standing wins, and the champion's title is held until another challenger happens to defeat said title holder.

"So, which one of you lads are up for the challenge?"

The first hand that was raised in the midst of the crowd belonged to Fang.

"That's a good man!" said Asuma. He took a hold of Tenten and Fang's hands, and asked them to conduct a handshake. There were now cheers and whistles coming in from the crowd, and Tenten felt almost dizzy without the drinks. Damn that veteran!

"L-look, I..." Tenten began, but her voice was overridden by the noise of everyone else nearby. Fang had a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes to go with it.

And oh forget it, there was just _no way _she would lose to him.

Asuma then sat them on the closest thing they had to a table, placing two jugs of beer in front of the contestants. He and Kakashi exchanged a knowing grin, while Lee watched on apprehensively. The rest of the crowd observed with zeal; the soldiers hadn't such great entertainment since the antics back at Christmas. Furthermore the townspeople themselves who had not even such a rambunctious gathering in many years.

"And remember my boys, _always_ drink responsibly!" Asuma noted, quite ironically. "On my mark..."

When the contest began Tenten didn't know quite what to do. To drink or not to drink? She looked over at Fang and he had already beaten her to half a jug.

Fuck it, she simply followed his lead, meekly downing the beer. Her head filled with a troubled sense of balance from the first gulp. She let out a chortled laugh. Drinking was a _damn_ good method to release the guilt.

Fang, in his boastful show of manliness had finished nine flagons while Tenten a mere three. He had been an amusingly fast drinker, and the audience booed as he collapsed from having too much to swallow. It was Lee then, who offered to drink up against Tenten. The crowd let out another enthusiastic cheer as he stepped up to challenge her.

"Tenten, are you alright?" he said. But she barely heard him above the noise, and that was even when all her five senses were becoming quite distorted. The swarm of onlookers was a pool of yellows and oranges, while Lee's face was just as equally twisted, barely recognisable to her.

And then Asuma then counted them in. It was a mistake anyone could've made (to trigger off Lee's innate destructivity, that is). Even Tenten, who had always been around, had not seen it when Lee had drunk his first drop of alcohol. It was a recipe for disaster.

As soon as Lee drank a single drop of beer he fell into a heavily inebriated daze. While Tenten was knocked asleep by the overwhelming amount of alcohol in her system, Lee became a whirlwind of devastation, a fit of mayhem rupturing anything within his path.

* * *

A lone Shikamaru had been watching the night sky. There were whole spectrums of colours up there.

Now, Shikamaru, a peacenik at heart, was known to be particularly lazy. He slept in on all days his mother wasn't able to wake him up, which gave him quite the difficult time in the army; it was only after much coaxing from his father, the enlistment of Chouji and Asuma that had pushed him into the soldering life.

He was a smart lad, and could've made it up to the rank of general if he wanted. He was the master of strategies and all forms of logic; with brilliance that could outshine even the stars above if he put any effort into it. But the young man, in regards to motivation, looked no further than the simple pleasures of life: cloud-watching, daydreaming, skimming stones and napping every chance he could.

After a few half-arsed attempts at losing a few games of chess so they'd let him go, Shikamaru finally had some time to himself. He was a only few seconds into the land of nod before some goon whizzed past him with a barrage of flying punches, kicks and a war-cry that incorporated too much "youth". Shikamaru yawned and flipped his position, hoping that it'd give him more comfort.

But then the detestable cretin up and headed back towards him, which was not a good thing seeing Shikamaru was not looking for any trouble that night, or any other night, or _ever_, really. Especially not from some brainless goon who insisted on disturbing his beauty sleep.

"Oh, bloody hell," Shikamaru spat as he tossed once again to rest upon the other side of his body. Maybe if Shikamaru pretended to be asleep he'd go away and leave him alone. Alas, the desired outcome was not as he expected. Rather than being granted peace, he was given nothing less than a crushing blow to the shoulder.

Shikamaru jumped in alarm, immediately springing up from his comfortable tree trunk. He was finally face to face with the antagonist. It was Rock Lee, with his thick eyebrows bushier than ever and a face that looked ready to pop. "For the love of Pete, what in god's name are you doing?"

Had it been anyone else that was stuck in his situation, he would've thought it amusing. "Chill."

His comment was ignored and Lee swung back his fist after a bundle of incoherent remarks starting off with the lotuses of springtime. But before Lee was able to strike, one drained commanding officer and a apologetic veteran came rushing in, and pinned him back down to the ground.

"Corporal, I order you never to throw a stunt like that, _ever _again, understand?" said an agitated Neji. Lee kicked and hollered beneath the hold of the two men, who were finding it hard keeping him in place. Shikamaru grimaced at Asuma, scowled and stormed off with his hand over aching shoulder.

"But boss, the boys were just having a bit of harmless fun and..."

"You call this 'harmless fun'? Never again. is that clear, Sarutobi?"

Asuma bashfully rubbed the back of his head and nodded to show he was willing to comply. "Yes, sir."

It was soon much too tiring to keep Lee in check by hand, and so turned to other ways of restraining him. They agreed in the end to carry him to the outskirts of town and tie him to a tree. Within an hour he stopped his endless cries of youth, slowly settling into unconsciousness, and finally the two men were able to relax.

Even on such an early winter's night like so, sweat gleamed off both Neji and Asuma's foreheads from the sheer effort they put in keeping everything under control. A considerable amount of the blind trust Neji had previously held for the elder soldier was quickly diminished, and he promised himself he'd never let Asuma take over the men's carousing ever again. He was still a good man, albeit showing an unruly side as well.

* * *

"So, kid... You married, kids?" Asuma asked politely. It was a pretty bad attempt at small talk as they made their way back to the village, he had to admit.

Neji gave a shake of his head, indicating a negative. "Not me, too young." Neji put his best efforts into generating a smile.

"What're you, eighteen this year? Should start thinking about it when the war's over."

"Something like that," said Neji. "And perhaps I should, follow your advice I mean. But how about you, do you have a wife, and children?"

Asuma whipped out a carefully protected colour photograph from his pocket. He pointed at the woman, his girlfriend. There was a hint of a bump developing in her stomach.

"Bugger's due not long from now. I probably won't make it back in time for the delivery, though."

"Well, congratulations. It is a shame how-" Neji stopped there, as he noticed the abrupt sentimentalism rising in Asuma's demeanour.

* * *

With the two men exchanging questions casually like so, they soon arrived back at the camp.

Many had become drunk in their absence and still danced around the flames like loons. Some gambled, while others ate like there was no tomorrow, until they regurgitated then began again. There were even some men who snatched a local girl or two and spent some good time with them pressed steamily behind the town huts. It was just as lively as they left it, no more and no less.

Neji's eyes soon settled on "Ryuu", collapsed on a log and oh so feminine in his sleep. He was almost completely convinced now that "he" wasn't really a "he", and in actual fact was a woman. What was the name Rock Lee had called him? Tenten... that's right.

It all added up: the alternating-high pitched squeal, the absence of any facial hair and general shape of his figure were all too womanly to simply pass off. No prepubescent boy could have grown to a decent height such as hers, and besides, no adolescent male took so long for their voice to break_._ As much as he hoped that it wasn't true, there was a hugely obvious amount of evidence to back up the statement. But still, there was no way to know for sure without checking.

He was sure to regret his next actions as his hand slid closer to Ryuu's torso. His heart began hammering in his chest from all the suspense. Neji began to think back on it. At the very last inch he withdrew his hand quickly.

What had he been thinking! He was raised to be neither a pervert nor an invader of privacy. He was raised to be a _gentlemen_ and a confidant, not a vile voyager!

No, his education had taught him patience. And he would be _patient_, goddamnit, because sooner or later he would know the truth.

He was to keep a lookout for this "Tenten"; no one could hide forever.

* * *

_I promised you weekly updates, so here it is! Though it is an extremely badly written chapter. This is proven with how rushed I was with it. It's also kind of rough cause I didn't have time to check over it more than once. Apologies!_ _It's exceedingly OOC, but how I do love the idea of pervert!Neji :D_

_Everyone, GO WATCH THE NEWEST EPISODE OF SHIPPUDEN. I promise, you won't be disappointed. It's a _Tenten-centric_ filler, guys. To top it all off it contains gratuitous amounts of NejiTen! _

_Also, the manga has heated up... *spoiler* now Konoha has been driven into a real war._

_News update: well, the fic has been drafted up to chapter 19. It's nowhere near completion as there are a few more than ten draft chapters to write up, and not to mention they're all really rough. But at least those weekly deadlines are doable now._


	10. Machine

_Machine_

Moral was still unexpectedly high once the men gradually made their way to the end of the year, after their first victory. They'd soon realised with little consequence that the front had already moved on to somewhere less safe, and that they were the lucky ones sent to clean up and babysit.

It was a terrible business, war, as Tenten was now aware of, but as long as her friends were beside her, their spirits were solid. They sang songs and played poker till the morning came. The group of soldiers mostly spent their free time planning small ambushes and mucking about in cities, and strangely enough the time went by rather peacefully. That was, until quickly autumn began to wilt into winter. Everyone knew it was inevitable, and many discussions sprung forth, concerning how they would keep warm and where their supply of food would come from.

It seemed, as in Neji's words, that an angel had been watching over them, as the answer came to the men when they were asked to help out at a local hospital caught in the middle of a snowstorm. In return they would be offered food and hospitality from the village surrounding it.

The infirmary had a neat, gloomily beautiful structure, and looked just that bit eerie stranding out in the snow. It was there that they stayed for some time.

Different men chose different jobs there, and some went entirely without them. It became ever the more apparent that most of them there were caught up in the midst of the quiet bedlam, lost and void of a true purpose. Some behaved erratically or inappropriately, and those with a medical background were tasked with more advanced duties. Others did small chores: fetching the water, stoking the hearth, preparing the meals. Men of higher endurance were assigned as stretcher bearers and lumberjacks, while those less capable tended to the sick and generally stayed out of the way.

Naturally, Tenten was selected as a nurse for the patients. She wasn't as much of a lifter as the others, couldn't tell the difference from a spleen and a liver. It otherwise would've been blatantly sexist to do so if it was obvious that she was a woman, but they didn't know that, and so she was willing to let it go.

She wasn't the only one who almost vomited upon the first time entering the building. Her nose was ransacked with the stench of putrefaction and death, and her eyes assailed with the sight of the injuries. It was then that she was truly able to compare their plight.

There were ones with their guts spilling onto the bed, amputated limbs, bleeding eyes and injuries so ghastly it would be inapt to describe. After she got over this shocking grievance however, she soon found that she rather enjoyed the job, and realised that the girls were indeed no objects of lustful desire, but rather women that deserved respect and received it fairly. She realised then the men didn't treat them just as subjects of craving, and that they weren't dressed indecently or acted anything like working girls.

They strived harder than any women she ever knew and she felt guilty for ever thinking differently of them.

* * *

There was a particularly well-mannered girl there who went by Hinata, whose company Tenten chiefly enjoyed. She was Neji's cousin, as luck would have it.

Her dark hair, sheeny and indigo, flickered in the hoary snow as she ran out to meet him for the first time in months. They exchanged a tight hug, and it surprised Tenten that Neji would ever express such emotion. From then on she watched their sickeningly polite interactions closely with fascination.

Hinata was also acquainted with Naruto, and due to her infatuation avoided his oceanic gaze. That is, whenever she could resist the urge to look into those beautiful eyes and stutter like a bloody fool. But contrary to her behaviour toward Naruto, compassionate Hinata was well at ease whenever by Fang's side. She would complement Akamaru on how much of a good boy he was while Fang would joke cleanly with a healthy pink smeared across his cheeks, and Hinata would laugh along kindly. Even if the jokes Fang told were rather stale and anything but funny. It was to be noted that in comparison to Hinata's erratic behaviour around Naruto, Fang was just as much of a dumbstruck, lovesick fool.

For a great portion of the daytime she was away from her closest companions. Of course, she had made peace with most members of her platoon but there were certain members of it with whom she just _clicked_. Fang had to constantly keep to the inglenook and kindle the fire, as the nurses found no better use for him. He was too brash and rude to most, and had not the attention span or teamwork to be able to cooperate as a stretcher bearer, let alone anything else that had required "other people", or excluded the presence of Akamaru. Hinata was too busy in and out of the rooms and usually had no time to talk because of her snappy matron's mean mouth.

Lee had been issued the job of tree feller, for he was well known within the nurses for his terribly strong arms and quick reflexes once they'd asked him to lift some debris or whatnot.

And of course, Neji whose company she reluctantly but admittedly liked having, was out most of the time bringing back soldiers to heal. He was chosen for his job for he was the highest ranked, so thus the most experienced, fit and one of the few skilled in first aid. He did however frequently make trips in and out of the wards, in short time lapses in which he could converse with her (though he at times bordered on suspicion).

Languidly, Neji fed her small snippets of information concerning himself, because she would always ask out of sheer boredom.

It was a good communication system, and in the few weeks that passed in that winter she'd learned such a number of things about him. Such as how he really longed to be not in the army, but rather the air force. He'd told her that flying, to him, was such a marvellous wonder he often sought to realise, rather symbolic for reasons he would not say. But of course, his guardian and uncle, General Hyuuga Hiashi, could not allow his dear nephew to step into ground he was no longer able to manipulate his way into.

Sometimes she even found herself gazing out the window, checking if Neji would come back or just watching the snowfall until the matron would swing by and ask her to presume her duties.

In the meanwhile Tenten was stuck indefinitely with the likes of Sasuke, who she never spoke to for his bratty attitude, and Shino, who was quieter than a mouse.

The only good thing that came with these arrangements was that Chouji had been stationed in charge of the kitchen, and _gee whiz_ could he make a good meal the odd times when they were able to get their hands on some food.

Best of all, at night they had a warm place to sleep! That was the hardest earned thing, and most worthwhile. At night, the men always huddled as close as possible to one of the fires in the hospital, taking the ground to sleep on, as while everyone was scheduled to sleep in spare beds, they were not always available. In the cold nights they spent together none of them were shy; arms and legs were thrown around, coiled around each other and welcomed in order to keep warm.

Working together, each soldier was a gear in the mechanism of some grand machine.

And that apparatus worked along just fine, until one day when she decided to indulge in a dry bath. Lee was still out, so he couldn't keep watch and she was _sure _she had locked the door when in truth she did no such thing. Neji had just happened to have strolled past the open door, and with it had a clear view of _who_ she was. Upon drying off her hair she turned around, facing him facing her with this terrible gape.

* * *

She lunged at him.

"You pervert!" She snapped firmly but indistinctly, afraid raise her voice. She aimed a good kick directed toward his shin, just barely missing as her vision was still blurry from some water she had failed to wipe from her face. Oh! And she was supposed to _never _miss her target!

His hands raised in defence of himself, speaking in a nervous cluster of words. "A-as you know, I was not entirely aware of your... true identity. How can that be my own fault?"

Tenten collapsed into her hands, pulling them over her forehead to the base of her neck. Neji carefully paced to throw a towel over her shoulders. His face felt as if it were at perhaps boiling point upon seeing such a form... and what _beauty!_

"My cover's blown, isn't it? You're gonna send me home and on top of that some..."

"Who said anything about sending you home?" he chuckled nervously. He tried to keep his eyes off her, so he kept them on the bucket at her feet.

Her face instantly rose from the pits of her mortified grief having heard this. "You'll really let me stay?"

"I do not see any reason why you should not. However, I will not inform any of the other men of this discovery, for I fear an upheaval of... well. Ultimately it is your choice if you wish for your... _complete_ character to be known. But if you choose to keep it a secret, it should be known that a Hyuuga will always keep their word."

She beamed at him, offering him a hand. He accepted it. "You don't know how much this means to me, sir! Thank you, thank you, and thank you again! But, I thought most men had some sort of gender supremacy issues or something like that."

"My mother once-oh, nevermind." Neji tried to cover his hot face in one of his hands. He gulped, and tried again, "Yo-you can do great things as long as you love whatever it is you are protecting. I used to believe that everything rested on the luck of the fates but... some goon soon proved me wrong. Do you understand where I am coming from, Ryuu?"

The fact that she was totally naked except for a towel seemed to escape her for a moment when Tenten crept closer and playfully whispered, "By the way, you can call me Tenten from now on, sir! That's my real name. Tenten."

"Tenten," he reverberated, not looking her in the eye. "Do you love your country?"

"Yes, sir!"

"And you will do your best to protect her?"

"Yes, sir."

He walked toward her, giving her a light pat on the shoulder. The heat upon his cheeks had still yet to leave him alone. "That's a good man."

Neji lingered there a moment too long to be promptly reminded by Tenten. His face did not seem to be undergoing a change of temperature anytime soon. He crept out the door, and as he passed her by, she quietly gave him yet another few words of thanks.

As Neji walked through the hallways, thoughts of self-assurance and discovery ran through his head. He _knew_ it!

And as for Tenten, she was willing to place the event behind her rather quickly; it wasn't the first time a boy had accidentally walked in on her naked.

As long as he didn't keep reminding her of it (which he didn't), he was forgiven.

That, however still didn't stop the embarrassment she felt whenever he looked her way. Not that this hindered their growing friendship.

* * *

A few weeks after the significant episode, and a couple of days before Christmas, a blizzard plummeted from the sky. Tenten could barely see through her window.

Neji had left in the morning with Kakashi as he usually did, but the time for one delivery had already stretched far longer than that which was within normal boundaries. All the other soldiers that had been labouring outdoors were called to stay inside.

Tenten was becoming sick of Fang's constant whining about the weather, his family, his life... and so she had escaped him for the moment as she stared out into the snow. It was a futile effort however, for she saw absolutely nothing through the thick, violent flurry.

"I'm a bit concerned about your cousin," she murmured idly to Hinata, who stood close by.

"O-oh, yes," she replied meekly, her eyes dropping in ignominy (as if it were her forgotten duty to worry about him). "But you see, I'm not too worried for him, even if I t-try to be, sir. U-um, he's really...

Hinata smiled, fumbling with her thumbs. "Not once has he gotten himself into any serious trouble he w-wasn't able to loop out of... So p-please do your best not to fret for him, sir!"

"Ryuu. Please call me Ryuu. Sir makes me feel like a gentleman!" Tenten uneasily replied. Hinata's statement, though confidently told, did little to negate Tenten's fears. She sucked her lips in behind her teeth, twiddled with her buttons, and gave a stiff nod.

"But you are, mister Ryuu," was her shy reply.

It was the first time a girl had made Tenten blush. She was about to reply when a sharp call echoed from the hall in demand for poor, overworked Hinata. The obedient girl scrambled on her feet, apologised for her sudden departure and left the room, leaving Tenten to herself.

Tenten sighed and looked out the window, to see Fang staring dreamily after Hinata. Funny how she was able to see him but not Neji. Tenten stuck out her tongue at him and he cheerfully responded by turning his back to her and pulling down his pants.

Tenten immediately reached for the shutters.

* * *

Time passed rather quickly and in a short while a star speckled, ebony silhouette had been veiled over the sky for some hours. Tenten had been watching for far too long.

It was time to take things into her own hands.

"Lee, will you come with me to find them?" she said, tired of Fang's boasting and clumsy advances toward Hinata. Lee nodded as a small reply.

"You can't go out in weather like that! You must be _insane_," Fang whimpered.

"Yeah, well, somebody has to." She shrugged, throwing her a thick jacket over her shoulders. "Do me a favour, Fang. Hang on to this rope, would you? And don't let go."

Tenten took Lee's overcoat and chucked it to him. Gripping the rope, Fang stared dumbfounded. Hinata stood by, too, her face now shrouded with murky anxiety. They opened the door, letting a flurry of snow fly into the entrance of the hospital, almost diminishing the flame.

The stuff outside was knee-high by the time they first attempted to struggle through it, and tough to wade through, too. The wind howled and lagged their speed.

Tenten groped for Lee's hand and made their way through the snow as best they could. They travelled for probably longer than half an hour in that icy mayhem before they ran out of rope. Grudgingly, they agreed that Lee would be the one to hold the rope and Tenten the one to continue further in search of their commanding officer.

When she did find him eventually, he was out cold and half buried in the snow with no sign of the stretcher, or Kakashi for that matter when she found him. She hauled him onto her back, a little overwhelmed by the weight of him, but continued back to Lee as promptly as was possible. That took longer than the time she needed to actually find him, as she had lost her sense of direction by then.

Tenten was on the verge of defeat when Lee suddenly grabbed her from behind. Not having the time to ask him how he managed to get so far with the rope, she only told him the very minimum of what he needed to know.

"We need to get him back quick!" Tenten roared over the winds. "He'll _die _if we wait a moment longer to find the others; he might be hurt!"

Lee took him on his back as Tenten lead the way forward with the rope fastened first around her waist, and then embed firmly in her freezing hands. The trek back was an easier one however, as they knew where to go and the direction storm did not push against them as it did before.

* * *

Upon entering the foyer, the trio saw a few worried faces staring up at them. Quickly Lee handed Neji over to some nurses, who fluttered about with concern. Hinata called to him, voice so soft it was as if she was trying to avoid awaking him.

Tenten and Lee did not take off her coats, but instead reclaimed the rope and made off to find the missing Kakashi and stretcher, but paused. The whole party did when they saw Neji move his lips, faintly but surely. Naruto leaned in to make out the words.

"He's issuing us an order... he's telling us not to bother, that the injured are long dead and so is... so is..." Naruto had trouble making out the next word. "'Kakashi."

The room felt silent, paying their due respects. It stayed so until Shikamaru, sprinted down breathless from the tiny conference room upstairs. Promptly, being the group's unofficial telecommunications man, he interrupted the scene and announced, "We've been given orders. Orders to report to duty have been issued. We're to fight in the trenches under divisions, right after our Christmas celebrations."

The room was utterly quiet once again, being suddenly aware of their imminent doom, but were only in such a state for only a moment before they were all reminded that their leader was in need of some serious attention.

When the time came, everyone sprang alive. Hinata, Tenten and Lee all helped to lug him as close to the fireplace as possible. It was evident now that no one else would die if they could help it. Not until the winter was over, at least. Tenten retrieved blankets from the upstairs closet, Lee boiled some water and Hinata did a good job at towelling him down. All the others made themselves useful in some way; even Shikamaru got off his lazy little arse and decided to contribute.

In fact, their last doctor had died of pneumonia only the day before, and it was up to Shikamaru to mutter the instructions, for he was the next best thing.

* * *

Once everyone settled down and Neji was secured his life, everyone began to talk. Surprisingly it was not as a gloomy conversation as they had hoped. As Neji slept, everyone and the nurses held a congregation around the gate downstairs.

Fang, who pretended to be brave for his crush, sat next to an anxious Hinata. She had not worried before about her cousin's safety but she sure did now.

"I-I hope he makes it out okay," she murmured.

"Me, too," said Tenten. Lee was close by, shaking his head.

"We'll work together to get him better, yeah?" Naruto suggested. He pumped his fist as Sasuke knocked him back down.

"You're right, but you shouldn't be so damn happy about it. Have you forgotten Kakashi has just _died_?" snapped Sasuke. Naruto hung his head down low. He was doing such a good job at putting it at the back of his mind, too!

Shikamaru shrugged. "Judging by what we've done for him he'll be fine. Just some mild to moderate hypothermia's all."

"Sure about that?" Chouji grumbled. "With the little food we've got, how do you expect him to recover?"

"Think positive," Asuma told him.

"I comply with everything you have all said," Shino sighed.

"Let us simply hope for the best," Lee said, thus ending the conversation.

That night they moved their celebrations toward Neji's bed, where each and every soldier shared their concern for their commanding officer while having at the same time their own worries. Well, that too could have been a collective thought, as it was neatly summed up by a single question:

What was waiting for them in the battle ahead?

* * *

_A longer chapter, kind of really slow paced and messy. Rushed at the end cause it's kind of late at night and I don't feel quite awake while editing this. But next week's may be delayed by a bit (extra week?) because I need to write another chapter between this one and the next drafted one. Otherwise the plot would be moving way too fast. Besides, post-exams they still decide to heap us with MORE work so... Gah. Plus I have an off-school large-scale Japanese thing to study for on the 5th. Sorry guys._

_Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. I'm nearly finished with the drafts. And that means for you... more reviews equals higher chance that I'll update sooner since most of the time I won't be starting a chapter off of scratch. I won't delay updates if you don't (I'm totally not asking you to), but just generally, more interest means more effort from me._

_Thanks for your understanding._


	11. Holiday Cheer

HOLIDAY CHEER

As the season neared everyone took on a sudden bout of responsibility. Girls flurried about in their grey pleated skirts, hopping in and out of the village to gather foodstuffs and decorations.

Everyone scurried about, usually dropping by their lieutenant (of whom everyone was admittedly concerned) each chance they had between their day to day activities. Even if the myth was perhaps nothing more than an old children's custom, it didn't hurt to hope that their Christmas wishes would be granted.

All their best efforts were to be put into that one singularity because after all, it could have been the very last Christmas they ever had.

* * *

Hinata was especially active in adorning the halls with jolly. She dug from the old supply rooms a small morsel of tinsel alongside a sad looking little tree, but somehow (with a trip to town or two) she helped weave the place into a home no less warm than any.

She had found a piano up in the attic and, since it was compulsory in a Hyuuga's education that they know a little something about music, softly encouraged the group to run a sort of holiday band. Its purpose was "to raise the spirits of all the ailing and melancholy". The idea at first came with a wave of doubt, but in the end no man could resist the charming innocence of compassionate young Hinata and decided to go about borrowing instruments and foraging through boxes and donations to find suitable pieces to fiddle with.

Gifts were difficult to come by in times like those, but everyone made an effort with the bare essentials. The nurses bought a bit this and that from home, embarking on a knitting spree that seemingly would never end. The soldiers had no homes in the vicinity, so they did their best by borrowing from nature.

* * *

Lee, who was ever so eager to please Tenten and his newfound buddies, secretly piled on more work for himself. He worked hard day and night, only to eventually have lumbered enough wood to sell for a bountiful amount of money. He toiled until the latest hour of night, when the moon was high above that one intimidating hill to the north, when his fingers where no less completely occupied with blisters and cold sweat formed from his brow in temperatures quite possibly below freezing point. Eventually, from it, he fetched an amount enough to get something decent for Tenten at least.

Though when his first job was done, there were still forests to gather before he could sleep.

* * *

Tenten herself was terribly stuck with whatever she was to give to Lee. She was sure he would be happy with nothing at all, but she loved to surprise him the odd once or twice.

At first she'd thought she'd get a hold of the nun-chucks he had wanted for so long, but the realisation came that such a thing was quite impossible to get at times like those.

But a _second _revelation came soon enough. It was bemusing how quickly she had forgotten, and then recalled, the months spent back at her father's smithy. How could she forget that one workshop, where it smelt of metal and wood and all things sharp and pointy, where she spent her time crafting lethal weapons, never leaving until they were refined to the highest quality? How could she have forgotten that her practised hands were once masters of hewing fear? Perhaps she was losing herself much earlier than she had first hoped.

There was one problem with that, however. Though nunchucks were one of the more painless creations one could construct, it took time to refine a good pair of them. In fact, only several years subdued in mud would do the trick, and Tenten had a hell of a problem there with time constraints.

She paced the bench she had been sitting on, trying to think of what else she might get for him. She thought hard, nails practically tearing through her mittens...

And it came to her.

When was—When was the last time Lee had gotten his hands on some good old imported curry?

* * *

Neji's pockets had always been heavy; even if he was a lower born Hyuuga he was still very much entitled to the family's fortune. Not surprisingly Hinata's had always been heavier; you wouldn't expect any less from the first daughter of a great empire.

By Hinata's insistence and his own free will, Neji and his overtly generous cousin both chipped in their money to prepare the men a feast that was to be grander than any they had known. Well in actuality they needn't of; most of the villagers were more than willing to contribute.

And even with this one boon, they had more than half the fortune in plain tangible form to purchase some decent, individual gifts. "Might as well spend it while we can", Neji would say after a loose shrug.

Neji bounced back fast from his ailments after a day or two filled with nothing but worry. He was quick to return to his duties, now even more efficient with his stretcher-bearing. C_harged_.

He even took the time to help others with any of their chores, be it lumbering wood or delivering parcels, he would assist to the best of his ability. And though Neji generally seemed to have a new, positive energy about him there was no doubt that this newfound obligation had something to do with a certain someone's passing. It was still however, amusing to see him scrubbing the floors and tackling the laundry right beside the women.

In fact, whilst looking in on them from behind, he almost fit perfectly into the picture, if even that was solely credited to his flowing, dark hair.

* * *

Fang, not as wealthy as the Hyuuga were, spent his time stocking up for his presents (mainly he bothered to impress Hinata) and decor by hunting down the odd bird or two down in the frozen wood. At all times he had Akamaru flanking his left, save for when said pooch was ordered fetch back the loot.

He had to admit that the pristine panorama was sorta, in an exceptional way, beautiful. And that very beauty had _nothing_ quite to do with those round plump things otherwise known as uh, watermelons. Fang wasn't the world's most poetic guy, sure, but even he could tell that the views really were something special.

The ice was cloaked in a silvery light, and the trees faded with an all too familiar poignancy which was yet at the same time so utterly new to him. Snowflakes were each autonomously intricate and pretty, and it was rather amazing how long his eyes had been closed off to nature.

Tenten would join him some of the time, and as the better marksman steal from Fang most of his game. Of course he usually would be drolly mad at her for doing so, but Tenten usually would choose to be kind in return and let him share half of their collective efforts, regardless of their individual merits. This act of compassion bought on a whole new level of respect from Fang, and managed to further deepen that _relatively_ fresh bond of friendship.

There was always a recurring situation in which Fang would tell her his sob stories, though, of how his mother and sister kicked him out of their home and having nowhere to go Fang had no choice but to join the army. He did well to capture Tenten's pity, but when the atmosphere became what could only be described as _too _solemn, Fang would usually clear up the muggy conversation with a well played and often inappropriate crack.

Tenten was getting rather used to his stale and over exaggerated jokes, and she found herself genuinely laughing about them in more instances than she had liked to admit.

* * *

Shikamaru couldn't quite be bothered to take a stab at arranging gifts for anyone. Why? Because it was a petty, annoying and convoluted process in which he never participated unless either of his two lovers said so. Just _thinking_ of those two caused his brain to hurt, with cells dissipating by the millisecond.

The loose soldier gave a grunt and lay back against his new favourite trunk. It would be kind of embarrassing if everyone showed up with something and he had failed to, but oh, when the hell had he begun to feel concerned about what others thought of him?

Well, actually he knew the exact answer to the question: it was curvaceous, headstrong, and blonde with windy spunk. But right that minute he didn't quite want to reflect on the situation, so instead of receiving a migraine from recalling that damn troublesome woman—troublesome _women, _technically speaking—Shikamaru decided to get off his butt and _do _something about this thing. Well, get off his butt and take it to Chouji (probably busy concocting his brilliant recipes), anyway. It was the thought, not the actual gift that counted.

Shikamaru then confirmed that he hated Christmas almost as much as having have to wake up in the morning.

* * *

Shino had quite a sharp distain for winter, the antithesis of his most beloved spring and summer seasons. Because the latter of which held the time in which the venerable clan of cicadas flourished, because one his most favourite things had involved watching a colony of ants slowly develop a mound of their own, perhaps studying the patterns on a butterfly's wing, and alas, with the onset of winter those endearing hobbies no longer bore their fruit.

Ice slowly but surely made its way over everything, engulfing all in its blue-white sludge. And that included an unwarrantable death sentence for every bloodsucking mosquito, every last ant, and every unsuspecting leaf. Of their fates Shino would be well aware of, only he had never really known where all the fish went during the harsh months of inexorable frost.

The entire population of the entomologist's kindest and most trusted friends had already been wiped off the face of the earth—well, the country at least—and he had none to turn to except for those pitiful beings they called humans.

Very well then – Shino would have resort to human contact. It was a dire situation! He could either accept his fate, or die of the ultimate boredom. But to do just that, it meant he would _actually _have to partake in this social event they called a "Christmas", a festivity more aggressive than the mating ritual of the dragonfly. And therefore, he assumed these celebrative tokens called "mistletoes" and "snowmen" were rather important toward them.

So Shino began his mass production of his biggest giveaway ever. When the right time and temperature came, the insects would rise again to meet the sun, and that was the day Shino would collect his gifts.

* * *

Sasuke wasn't the most enthusiastic about the whole Christmas business. Mostly because the only way he would be able to contribute was by, put simply, whoring himself out.

He fingered the soft blue wool on the stand. The colour more than simply reminded him of Naruto; the texture of it was a perfect translation of his amiability into fabric. And, since he had heard the other man incessantly cough and sneeze and whine as soon as the winter settled in, Sasuke thought the scarf an appropriate gift.

The merchant had been eyeing him from metres away, with a certain glint within.

"Y' dun see quality like thissun nowadays," the boy said. He seemed younger than Sasuke, yet he still stared with the lustful intensity of a man beyond his years. Sasuke gifted him with a smirk, reared his face up and met him eye to eye. The sky was dark then and it was about time to return to the infirmary, but Sasuke could probably spare a few hours. He was a big boy; he could take care of himself.

Sasuke could see that the peasant's face was awash with freckles. He had a decent face, olive eyes and a nice smile. But the _real _deal-maker was the impressive build of his shoulders, and everything below it.

Subtly, Sasuke's tongue traced the rim of his lip.

"Don't have any money on me now, kid," Sasuke murmured, advancing ever so slightly toward him now. He put one hand on the fabrics. "But I _promise _to make it worth your while."

The boy gulped. Sasuke shrugged. He knew what he was doing, but the boy certainly did not.

"I'll take the lot." Sasuke tip toed to the edge of the timber that separated them, slipping off his mittens. "How 'bout it?"

The reply came slow and deliberate. "Yessum! 'S a deal, s-sir!"

He seemed visibly excited by his new catch, but Sasuke could only swallow the fact that the stranger had accepted him and was taking him home so easily. Though, it could be said that he was more or less was used to it—it wasn't the first time he'd participated in such a method of trade.

It was just the honest truth of how Naruto would never know that really bugged him. Though that one fact was also a relief as well as a burden; Sasuke would never want him to feel that he was filthy. Never.

He would rather die.

* * *

In the meanwhile, little did the object of Sasuke's affection know that _his_ best friend was thumping and moaning and whimpering against a wall in some stranger's hut. Even more obscured from him was the fact that he was offering such services in return for Naruto's very own Christmas gift.

He hummed a jolly Christmas tune as he climbed up a wobbly ladder and placed a wreath on the front of the gate. It would seem that on the surface, all memories of Kakashi's death had been swiped from his mind. And that moment, it really had.

At the same time somewhere not far off, Sasuke howled with phoney gratification.

Then in abashed fashion, Hinata arrived on the scene with a tree in tow. She tried her best to avoid his direct path, though he caught her anyway (probably because of the massive fir behind her).

"H-Hinata! That's such a cool tree," he yelled as the ladder trembled again beneath him.

"Be c-careful, Mr. Naruto!" she shrieked as he landed flat on his butt. Naruto moaned in pain as he rubbed the poor spot. Sure as hell it was going to bruise.

"Oh, stop calling me that!" he snapped at her.

_Sticks and stones_, thought Hinata as she shied away even further from him. She was instantly submissive, though Naruto had read the expression on her face and was instantly apologetic. It really wasn't his intention to sound so harsh. "I-I... I didn't mean it that way! I'm sorry, Hinata! I really, honestly am."

"It's alright, it's just..." Hinata took the wagon and all but limped forward. In his guilt Naruto stepped forward despite his rear pain, to assist.

"Lemme help with that," he said, trying to tug the wagon from her. She shook her head because she needn't his trouble, though he snatched it right back. Unfortunately for him, Naruto whipped his hand back with such a force (quite accidentally) that it forced them both to topple over and land in a _very _indecent position. Hinata was out, cold.

And as though prearranged, both Fang and Neji had to return at that peculiar time and place.

Neji stopped in his tracks, prejudice clear in his eye while Fang rang up to the fool and whacked him over to the right. Tenten, with him at the time, stifled a small giggle.

"What do you think you're doing?" Fang barked whilst Neji's glare bore right through.

Naruto was going to bruise in all the wrong places. "No, I-it-uh, but..."

Fang picked her up by the waist and lightly slapped her cheek in an attempt to rouse her. It succeeded, and once she was awake he fanned her with his hand. As much as he would've liked to fight Naruto then, both Neji and Tenten instructed Fang to cool off elsewhere. So instead of landing a few more hits on Fishcake, Fang gingerly led her inside to place the glittery gold star on the tree.

"Someone's been naughty this year, hm?" Tenten sneered as she retreated from the scene.

"B-but it's not what you—" said Naruto for the last time, before Neji dropped his shovel on him.

* * *

_CHRISTMAS IS NIGH!_

_42 reviews, 3,200 hits! *cheers*_

_Unfortunately, I think I will get rid of the summary in favour of a new one since there are a few people who have commented, informing that they had gotten the wrong impression upon seeing the word "cross-dressing". I hate to give people the wrong impression and... Guh, I couldn't think of anything else that got through just as exciting. Well, take two is on its way..._

_I've been AWOL for a bit, so sorry guys for not updating. Of course, I do have an excuse to back this up, like I always do... More assignments and tests, of course. And really, really distracting games. But I'm back now and that's all that matters! How's a Christmas special chapter (or two) sound, guys? (And I have to work on a KuroFai Chrissie fic, too by the 24__th__. Gah... so little time.) Oh and just so you know the next chapter will be started from scratch. Hopefully I can get it up earlier than usual. :D_

_Yeah and I got lazy with the editing again. Turned out a little more materialistic here than I intended, though I will fix that in the next chapter. I so need a beta. _

_Sorry, sorry, sorry._


	12. Christmas

_Christmas_

Lee swiped the back of his hand against his forehead, swirls of sweat trickling away against his brow. He had not slept the previous night, though for a good cause Lee didn't mind.

A few days ago Lee had spotted a ruby-encrusted dagger by an old merchant's with the prettiest sheath he had ever seen. And it was perfect, downright _made_ for Tenten. He hoped with all his remaining might that with all his hard work he would be able to afford it.

So he lugged himself back to town, his arms heavy with fatigue and legs dying for a rest. The only thing that soothed his tired muscles at that point was the thick aroma of Yuletide wafting in the air. Just walking past those huts brought in the taste of candy and laughter and turkey and Christmas to settle on Lee's tongue. Though the smell was nothing short of heavenly, it was all but a surprising phenomenon as it was indeed Christmas morning.

Stopping at the old man's residence, Lee gave the rotting door a polite knock. Said door creaked open with no time to spare.

"_You _agin?" the merchant croaked.

"Merry Christmas," Lee grumbled. He twisted his hand into his uniform to relieve his frozen fingers. "I would like to take a look at that dagger I enquired for earlier, sir."

The merchant knew the one. He turned on his ancient toes and retreated back into the darkness of his shelter. Lee held his fingers to his mouth as he waited.

"This what yer lookin' for, son?" the man asked upon his return.

Lee nodded enthusiastically. He reached out for the object to stroke it, though the merchant jerked it back without hesitation. Without a word he offered out his other, empty hand. Lee understood that it was a prompt to present him with the money, so he sunk into his pockets and flipped through a quarter of the money he had cashed in for his timber, and placed it in the man's hand. The gesture was met with a maniacal laugh.

"Yer gunna need ten times what ye have 'ere if you be wantin' a single ruby."

Panic. Lee was never any good at bargaining. He quickly scooped out all the money he had earned the past week or so, but the merchant still shook his head, sliding the cash back into Lee's palm.

"Sorry sonny boy," said the trader. He fixed his door ajar, and said a few last words before he shut it completely. "Ye best be runnin' long nuh. And merry Christmas to you."

Lee had not been given a chance to speak and so he was left alone and without a clue what he could do. The late nights were taking their toll on him and collapsing was very much in order.

There was nothing left for him to do really but to return to Tenten's side and help with preparations for the feast they had been looking forward to for so long. But next year, if Lee could not succeed in his quest for her present, he would work ten times as hard and buy her ten ruby daggers! Lee looked up.

Oh _my._

The path to the hospital was windingly long, and even worse, held a hefty a slope. Had he been pumped after one of Gai's most youthful practice sessions, it would've appeared to him more like a rather gentle incline. But now, after more than two continuous days of no sleep, it made a _mountain's _worth of difference.

But still. Lee was no giver-uperer, mind you. Defeat was not an option. It was a term that simply did not _belong _in his vocabulary.

And as a great man once said, even the longest journey begins with a single step.

* * *

Tenten had nothing found absolutely nothing to offer her counterpart. She had failed in her attempt to get her hands on any sort of curry within the village, as it was an item both obscure and expensive. In fact, Lee and Tenten were only a select few out of the majority of people who had ultimately ended up empty-handed.

She, however, supposed that it _simply didn't matter_, because that wasn't what Christmas was all about. It wasn't what friendship was all about.

Comparatively, Fang was tucked tightly into his own little corner, bemoaning his apparent and fruitless failure. In his primarily male-oriented mind, he knew all about pearls and diamonds but abysmally little about the wonders of what tongues and arms could do.

"She'll forgive you, Fang. I just _know _it," Tenten assured him. "You're good friends aren't you?"

"But she's _different_!"

Tenten rolled her eyes at him. Of course. _Different. _They all were. Different or no, flailing about wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"This is Hinata we're talking about here, you meathead! You think a girl like that will hold it against you just because you missed out on a Christmas gift, with a fairly valid excuse to back it up?"

"N-no, but..."

"_Exactly_. Look, just leave the rest me, will ya?" Tenten demanded. Fang stared at her with extreme distrust. "You should be helping out for all that fancy-schmancy stuff that'll be on tonight, alright? Leave all your lover boy business for later."

Fang got up on his feet and groaned. "Got it, _mum_."

"C'mon," Tenten said. She grabbed a hold of Fang's cuff and stormed downstairs, where a most agreeable and curious aroma arose. Akamaru woofed with approval.

Fang took two whiffs at the air before being dragged along the courtyard and up another flight of steps. An acquired taste was ebbing from the kitchen—the smell of some spice, bark-like, woody and sweet, foiled with a rich slab of butter, sugar and wet dough...

_Ah. _He'd recognise that scent anywhere.

It was the sweet smell of Hinata's cinnamon buns. One of Fang's many, depressively steep pitfalls.

"C'mon, _Bones_. Just lemme drop off a 'hi'," Fang pleaded. "Stop pullin' me!"

Tenten smirked. "You sure you're able to do just that?"

"Whodiya think I am?" Fang snuffed, snatched back his hand and ran headlong into the kitchen.

Tenten watched Fang stroll into the room, in an oh so debonair manner. He slicked back his hair, leaned over on one of the benches and muttered a greeting.

"H-hey Hinata," Fang faltered. He found it difficult to look in her eye, so instead had them settle _elsewhere_.

"Merry Christmas, Ki—I mean Fang!" she giggled in response. As an extension of his coolness, Fang slid his elbow along the bench top while placing the other on his hip, gathering flour in the process. "Your buns look uh, super tasty t'day—"

_No. _That was _not_ what he had meant to say. Fang slapped his hand over his mouth quickly following the comment. "Th-that's not what I mean but um..."

Hinata bent over to get a better look at Fang, who was erratically hiding his face from her view. Beautiful as she was with her hair swept overher shoulders like that, Fang refused to turn back. "Fang? What's wrong?"

Poor, oblivious Hinata.

"He's a pervert, that's what's wrong!" Chouji huffed.

"H-h-hey! L-look here _pork chops_, I ain't the world's nicest guy... but I'm no pervert, either!" Fang howled in protest.

"That's _it,_" Chouji growled. He picked up a soup ladle and hit Fang with it, sounding off an unexpectedly loud _wham._ "Get outta my kitchen!"

"Owee! Geez, that hurt, ya jerk," Fang sighed. "Hinata, don't listen to this—"

_Bang, clang, pow, bam._

* * *

Chouji's eyes were on _fire_. He chased Fang around the infirmary for a good three rounds before he was at the end of his rope, and could run no more.

"Na, na, na, na, na, na, you can't catch me!" Fang rejoiced, blowing a raspberry as he finally managed to writhe out of the larger man's grasp.

Chouji waved his fist at him while Tenten broke into a fit of laughter.

* * *

Neji in the meanwhile lingered outside amongst the couple of kitchen tables they had set up. He had almost ripped his hair out the night before, having been forced to manage the whole thing in such concentrated sessions like that—between all the laundering and felling and running, among a multitude of other odd jobs and chores. He was no Hiashi, and his impatience and incompetence with the whole affair proved it.

But the climactic event – the dinner at the end of the day, somehow made it worth it for him.

The boys had not seen so much poultry and glaze all in one place for months. To see those faces gleam with such happiness struck a chord in Neji's otherwise indifferent heart, and with it he decided he would spend twice the amount of nights to see them again in the future.

There were mistletoe antics galore after the feast was over of course, where the boys tried placing Fang (as Tenten had promised him) and Hinata under it while the opposing side did the same for Naruto who—god bless his soul—hopped around kissing every woman, _and _man, he met under the said mistletoe. Among those kissed included poor Hinata who fainted soon after their encounter. This in turn lead Fang on a rampage of sorts, however irrational he was becoming over one little _friendly _Christmas kiss.

Other targets included Sasuke, who was actually seen _blushing_, and even the boss himself who surprisingly took it rather well and to an extent, returned the favour.

* * *

Following the after-party the nurses lead the men to the Christmas tree. Despite the men's failure to reciprocate a financial basis for them, the space under the great fir was somehow miraculously filled with numerous gifts all wrapped in their shiny vibrant paper. The men approached the boxes carefully, though upon opening them they realised they were filled with nothing but with concern for the nation's warriors.

Each present was filled with a comfort box, in which included socks, knitted jumpers, odd bits of cigarettes, playing cards, and letters, most of them expressing praise and gratitude while others were apprehensive ponderings written under the hand of some maternal lady. They were all in all, little things that had built up one by one to fill their hearts to the rim.

And, in return for the ladies' great efforts, the boys asked them for dances and exchanged love between them on the dance-floor.

* * *

Tenten tapped her foot as Neji began to play a whimsical, serpentine tune on his fiddle. Whatever playfulness that had been locked away from them to see had been compensated with his skill in the violin. Fang took up a banjo, Shino a tambourine, Hinata the piano and Chouji a harmonica. The music had an uplifting, soothing feel to it, and those even with the gravest of injuries bopped along to the melody.

Though many patients were forced to remain inside, the windows had all been open and the life of the party was conveniently situated close to the less mobile. The party extended indoors, too, as nurses took to wounded soldiers and took those who were able on a wild spin.

Almost everyone was in a state of genuine elation, a celebration best described as "youthful" by the only one who was by no means enjoying himself.

Tenten had caught on to Lee sitting dejectedly by a drunken, passed-out random as she spun in Naruto's arms. She finished the brandy she had been holding up in her hand in a gulp, apologised to her partner and struggled her way out of the crowd.

"Sorry, Fishcakes. Gotta run," she said.

"You go on then!" he laughed, conveniently spinning her in the right direction.

* * *

"Lee?" she called. Lee looked up, although seeing her there only evoked a mortified expression of shock made plain under the broad fairy lights. "Something up?"

"I'm... sorry, Tenten."

She thumped next to him. "What's this one about?"

"You. I've..."

"Ah!" Tenten knew him better than he did himself. "This is about..."

Tenten took a rather firm hold of his wrist and twisted it so his hand was facing her, palm up. This was a terrible mistake, as it was a sight Tenten hoped never to see ever again.

"You've done it again. You've overworked yourself. How many hours did you sleep this week?" Her barrage of questions bombarded him with impossible speed and soon enough he found her cheek to his. She held him tight.

"I love you and I mean it." Tenten kissed him. "You know, having you by my side like this is better than anything I could ever hope for? As cheesy as it sounds, it's the truth as I see it."

Lee grew hot under her lip. Lost for words was an appropriate description. "I-I uh... Thank you."

"Don't do it again," she warned. "Next time I'm going to have to tie you up against a tree, aren't I?"

Tenten then took his hand again, scar against scar, although this time the movement was tenderer than anything. She dragged him out into the mess of swishing skirts and hopping men, linked his arms in hers and began to move along to the music. She steered Lee away from any alcohol he might have got his hands on, and it were as if they went on dancing for hours in a joyous, oblivious time loop that mimicked the way they went along with their bopping about.

Then it was time for them to rotate, and Lee spun into the arms of a pretty stablegirl whilst Tenten caught Neji in hers.

Wait, he'd pulled out of the band? Tenten could hardly tell the difference.

"You having fun, boss?"

"I..." he stumbled, clutching his forehead. It was safe to say that he didn't look so good.

"Hey." Tenten supported Neji, who was more than just wobbly on his feet. "You need to sit down?"

"I think I've had a little too much drink," he grunted.

* * *

And so, quietly, Tenten led him out of the crowd. She sat him on a nearby bench, and in the next second his hands were gripping her elbow. She cocked her head in confusion.

Neji then suddenly pinched his nose; a memory was quickly beginning to wriggle away from him. "Have I yet thanked you for saving my life?"

"Yes, a couple times, wonder if that's the reason you keep all my secrets." She chortled.

Neji hid his sensitivity toward the comment with a smile. "I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, Tenten. Without you, without Lee, without the whole team I would have never been able to experience today."

Tenten waved her head around. "Not a problem. I'm sure that..."

_You'd do the same for us_, but in truth she wasn't. Better leave the sentence unfinished. As her mother always said...

Well quite frankly, Tenten couldn't remember what it was her mother always said, but having breathed life a new train of thought, feelings of homesickness quickly rushed to her side.

Had she been at home, the fairy lights would've been up all around the house, Lee would be pigging out in their kitchen, pa would be glued to the television while ma finished off her one-of-a-kind Christmas crunchies, or so they were called. The sense of family was still much of the same there in the army, but without...

"Tenten," Neji called. He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. "Is something the matter?"

"No, it's... nothing," she mumbled. "Just a thought."

He smiled. "I may not look the part, but today has been one of the best days of my life."

_And perhaps, it will be one of the last._

* * *

30/12/2010: Edited version up. Approximately 800 words added, rounded off a bit. I don't know if this quite makes up for it though. Oh well, it's at least a _slightly _improved edit.

_Alright. Reallllyyyy late update – on Boxing Day, too! I know. Except this time, I really don't have any excuse whatsoever... I'm just being really plain lazy with Christmas and school holidays. I would normally beg for you, the reader's, forgiveness but I really don't think I have the credentials to this time._

_Short, but I don't particularly care anymore. I'll come back and rewrite this chapter when I have the drive to do so, however. It's a promise._

_Anyway, here's your Christmas special!_


	13. To the Sea

_To the Sea_

With those sentimental thoughts multiplying by the second in his head, Neji needed a good shot of something. Something _strong_er.

"Eh?" She found it difficult to hear him over the buzz all about. The branches in his head, each expanding into several peculiar death scenarios, ceased to proliferate as soon as her smooth, sharp voice cut into his conscience. "What was that?"

"Never mind," Neji slurred, initiating a slight pause. Before the silence dragged on for too long, Neji employed the technique of slyly switching subjects, "give Lee my thanks, too, won't you?"

She moaned, fiddling with her fingernails as she answered him, "why don't you tell him yourself?"

Well, he could do that. Indeed he could. But Neji was not good with words when it came to gratitude, and it just so happens he was more confident using them in Tenten's presence. Now, to put that into actual _words..._

"Right, right. I get it. You're a shy one, aren't you?" She snickered. Neji grasped for words, though no matter how he tried, Tenten still dominated the conversation. "Well, the answer is _no. _You'll do it yourself, right? You're a big boy now."

He chuckled at the teasing sensibility of her last statement. Hyuuga Neji only able to nod in defeat, having been conquered by Tenten's clever little tongue. Neji wasn't sure whether or not it was a joke or an insult; suffice to say that Neji cared little in his half-cohesive state. He was happy with whichever.

"Now." She hooked him through his arm. "You gonna enjoy yourself, or what?"

"What made you think that I wasn't to begin with?" he sighed as he let himself be dragged toward a suspicious looking punch. His stomach flipped, entirely on its own accord.

She eyed him, up and down. "You're kidding."

"Nup. This is the height of my life."

"Y'really don't look it." Tenten placed a cup of punch in his hand. She'd filled it at lightning speed in the short amount of time she wasn't looking. "Drink. It's _good._"

"Could be spiked," he muttered.

"Should you care?" She shrugged. Neji followed, mirroring her actions and swallowing the beverage in a single gulp. Refreshing.

Tenten walked along the row of refreshments as the tangy zest took its sweet time to melt in Neji's mouth. She stopped at an odd looking dish and picked it up.

"Tried the enchilada yet?"

"The hell's that?" Neji scoffed, picking up the food from her palm.

"An enchilada, like I just said. As for what's in it—I don't know; _you _ordered the stuff. But I must say it's quite... special. I mean, Lee loves the stuff because it's—"

But it was too late. Neji had already taken a bite, before she could warn him that the food was rather harsh on those without much of a tolerance for spiciness, a set rule that very much applied to unfortunate, unsuspecting Neji.

He burned beet red in the face, and bent over, punching his fist to his chest.

Neji was _dying_, he was sure of it. Oh, goddamnit, he might as well of swallowed a chilli pepper whole.

Tenten panicked and automatically clouted him from behind, sending up both the enchilada, _and _the punch right back up. Luckily, people around them were too preoccupied with their frolicking to even notice.

"Oh, dear," she gasped. Guess that meant that he was her responsibility now.

* * *

She bent down to offer him a piggyback, but Neji refused and instead chose for her to support him only by her shoulders. He insisted it remain that way until she trudged him up the steps, turned, struggle through a hallway, and helped him to an empty bed.

"I'll get something for your um, face," she said, leaving for the sink to the right, returning hereafter with a cloth with some warm water. "Yeesh. Hell of a night huh?" she sighed, pulling forward a stool from under her legs.

As she dipped the cloth in the bucket and ran it across the sick around Neji's mouth, he, for some unapparent reason, closed his eyes.

"I have lost all chances of wooing you in the future, haven't I?"

"What're you talking about?" she murmured absentmindedly, concentrating on the cold sweat bunched up in the corners of his forehead. "You're drunk."

"I told you. I'm not drunk, I'm just exceptionally exhausted. I'm letting you do all this for me only because no man in his right mind would ever pass up an opportunity such as this," he mumbled. "I am hopeless. Irrefutably, irrevocably hopeless, hopeless."

_Pffft_. Just what was he talking about? Gibberish. Absolute gibberish. "No, you're not. I could tell you why, but you already know exactly what I mean when I tell you that you're a great man and an..." she praised, pausing upon running dry on compliments, "an uh, even greater lieutenant... Now, what was this opportunity were you talking about?"

Neji opened his mouth to say something, but shut it before he gave it away. He shook his head and smiled, just like a schoolgirl with a secret.

"You _are _drunk." She ignored his nonsensical behaviour and focused on slipping off his boots.

"You're right, I am a little woozy. But I doubt that we can put the wine at fault for that."

"Y-you mean it's the punch? Because I feel fine," she jittered. She knew where he was getting at, now. The face she then showed him was a unique blend of pleasant surprise and abashed flattery, and Neji knew that she understood. Quickly changing the subject, she said "you men are all the same, overworking yourselves for no good reason. You come so close to death in a day and the next you're handling tens of kilometres of travel. That's not healthy, that's just silly."

"Wrong again." He smirked. "It's a rule that generally applies to us humans as a whole. Why pertain it only towards the male species? Haven't you ever found yourself in a similar situation? I am sure your lady friends are just as excessive as we are on those terms. Shikamaru is a prime example of just how wrongly you assume."

"Because you frustrate me, sir," she said.

Tensely, "I... I truly don't mean to."

"I know you don't," Tenten sighed. She stood up, motioning to leave. "Anyway, it's time for some sleep, boss. You've got a big day ahead of you."

"I would say the same for you."

And then he realised; Neji didn't want her to leave.

She took that as a signal to go, and turned towards the door. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Neji's eyes followed her to the end of the room... and oh, to hell with it.

"Would you mind it if I asked you to stay for a little while longer?"

His delivery bordered on pathetic, and under the usual circumstances Tenten would probably make a snarky remark and utter it quietly under his nose. But that night there was something vulnerable, conspicuously _troubled _in his eyes that she found it difficult to turn him down. So instead she made a cool, "No problem", reclaimed her stool, and sat by his side.

"Not feeling too good, are we boss?"

"_Hmm_," he hummed, dazing out the window. Even with him ignoring her question, she was willing to try her patience—just for the night, at least. As a Christmas favour, she was willing to call it.

Tenten nudged a step forward, and tried again. "What're you looking at?"

A hand was raised, signalling for her to shuffle closer to him. "Well, come along. I'll show you."

They both poked their heads out the window, slowly and moderately to avoid being seen.

"You see there?" Neji directed his finger to a woman standing against a stall.

"Yeah, sir, I see her," Tenten verified. "That's your cousin, isn't it?"

"Absolutely correct," Neji replied. "Now the problem lies," Neji muttered, pausing to reposition his finger on a spinning blond figure metres away, "here."

"Naruto? But he means well... I've gotta tell ya, boss. Fishcake's completely harmless."

"It'll never work, between your friend and my cousin," Neji grunted. That commentary caught Tenten quite off guard, as Neji had never shown many observational tendencies before... At least, none that she had caught a hold of. "As long as her eyes are fixed on that Uzumaki boy, she's as good as blind. Just you wait, Tenten. She will ask to join us tomorrow, using any excuses at her disposal. And I will not be able to convince her otherwise. She will always get her way."

* * *

There were soon no words exchanged between them then, as Neji had slipped into sleep without a sound, and Tenten was left to watch her comrades' revelry alone.

Tenten yawned; the late nights had been getting to her. She thought of leaving, although ultimately decided against it, as it was long past her curfew anyway.

"Time for some good ol' shuteye!" she announced (to a non-existant audience, no less).

"Boss?" she whispered. "You awake?"

He gave no reply, and she fell quiet. In that room, there was naught but the sound of a man shivering violently in his delicate slumber.

Tenten went to the window, closing it to minimise both the noise and the cold, then reached for the closet to fetch an extra blanket. She took the quilt, nice and warm, and wrapped it lightly around his body. Shortly after letting out a wheeze, Neji stopped shaking, and her job was done.

She then took her spot on an unoccupied bed, placed her head on the pillow, and shut her eyes.

* * *

The waves.

Tenten could hear them, lapsing and folding unto one another, like sheets and lovers spilling and swaying across their beds.

Perhaps it was a siren song calling her imminent death or maybe she had simply been too long without water. Either way her hands were shaking and Lee was too. She could _feel _him quivering, and there was certain madness to how nature remained so indifferent to all around that was it. It stood calm and still, responding only to the occasional wind that zipped past it.

The fond memories of Christmas had been obscured somewhat, but still lingered fresh. She could still remember that morning in which she woke, and all Neji had told her about Hinata were true. She had asked to go with him, early in the morning, her eyes alight for Naruto. Neji thought it pointless to argue, as she would manage to sneak herself in one way or another, but decided to conduct a frictional, stilted discussion, anyway, a discussion which ultimately failed to keep her from going—all following the sequence of events in Neji's foretelling.

And there were no more questions after that. Hinata, Tenten and the boys simply climbed onto the rickety mule-driven wagons, riding off to the brand new front that had formed by the sea.

It wasn't quite the joyride any of them were expecting, however. Conversely, the entire journey held was a terrible foreboding: the road in which they travelled was often steeply inclined, and the beach was expansive to say the least. All the gory details of the theatre could be viewed from the wobbly discomfort of their croaky wagon, and as a result, the soldiers sat with their backs away from the action.

To make things worse, skirmishes hid in the bushes bordering the linear path that awaited them. Each time they engaged in them the adrenaline would rush up, quicker than death but slower than life.

It was notable that surprisingly, with his classical underdog approach to everything (and anything), Shikamaru played a vital role in these minor-scaled skirmishes. His being a natural-born tactician soon had him promoted to sergeant, placing him in second in command after the lieutenant himself, much to his dismay.

It was only a short while before their transport wore out, or rather, was killed off, and they had to travel solely on foot in order to traverse to the safety of their headquarters.

Or at least a tank.

* * *

Not far from where the army was at, another group of important individuals were waiting for a sign. A group of young women and men, who, as valiantly as they endeavoured, struggled to quell the wrath of war.

What did Sakura expect at the time she signed herself up to serve for a living hell? Each nurse had become an angel of death with news of nothing but bereavement spreading with only short intervals in between. They flittered through the halls, stitching up wounds and soothing dismembered soldiers only to earn nothing but the inexorable knowledge that these men were to perish in their given time.

"We can only pray now," Sakura murmured. "It's all we can do for them."

Sakura sat beside Ino, hugging her for the first time since they were what? Ten?

The fair beauty wept dolefully, curled up in a taut ball beside her friend. An unsteady hand curled around Sakura's waist as Ino pressed to her side. "Why would... w-we do that? There's no point. If there is a god, _he's not here,_" she moaned in between hiccups.

"Shhh, not while we're in here!" Sakura laughed, rocking her back and forth in her arms. "I'd never thought you and I would end up in a nunnery, of all things." Sakura remarked, gazing off into the intricately cherubic ceiling.

"You've always had the prettiest green eyes, Sakura," Ino muttered, "And you're so strong-willed too. I think that I may be finally able to admit that I'm jealous of you."

Ino looked up at her, her hand reaching to touch her pink hair. Sakura scooped down and used a clean handkerchief to wipe the tears off her comely blonde lashes. "But you have the dreamiest blue eyes of any girl I've ever seen, and fortune seems to have quite a penchant for you. In a few years when you have a house by the bay, a magnificent gentleman for a husband and _gorgeous_ kids, and I'll be the one envying you."

"Sakura, dear, you haven't the slightest idea how grateful I am that you're here. You..."

"Hey. Who really cares about that woman, Ino? She's not your business anymore. Shikamaru doesn't... he doesn't deserve you."

"You think so?" Ino's face showed that was despairingly desperate, depraved. There was only one answer to the question.

"I know so. Look—forget about him. For now, let's mend us some soldiers!" Sakura motioned to stand, but Ino grabbed her wrist before she could go.

"I... I can't go back in there. I swear that if I see a stitch again I will throw up. And as for Shikamaru well, we've been kind of on and off for a while now."

Sakura sat herself back down, taking Ino's hand and holding it in hers. "Do you really want to talk about it?"

"No, not really... But that woman, she looked familiar. I'm sure I've seen her somewhere before. Like, oh, I don't know. Shikamaru may be the worst prick in the history of the world, but it doesn't keep me from worrying about him. You know how he is."

"Yeah," Sakura sighed, clutching Ino's hand, tight, "he'll be fine."

Ino squirmed, and Sakura smoothed back her luscious, blonde hair to calm her. "I'm sure of it. He's a smart guy; he can take care of himself."

Sakura took Ino in her arms again, cradling her. "It'll be fine. We're okay. It'll be okay."

And maybe, just _maybe_, if Sakura kept at her mantra, things really would turn out alright.

At least, she sure as hell hoped so.

* * *

_H-holy mackerel. You people are _awesome. _Between this chapter and the last I've received _a whopping _twenty or so reviews, all nice and long, though with them I have issues to address:_

_1. Chapter 12 sucked. You know it, I know it. The edited version is up, and you can re-read it if you want to (lot's of extra content!)_

_2. In chapter 4 I addressed Neji's curse seal. I've removed that reference now, because I really don't know how I can implement it later seeing I already missed a lot of chances to do so. So um, just imagine that IT'S NOT THERE._

_I know have some serious adjusting to do. Many of you have noted the pace and have mentioned that you actually _like _the speed I am going at, so I'll have to reformat some of the following chapters, because even having written thirty drafts, they still need a _lot _of work to constitute a constant flow._

_I actually planned on having this chapter up earlier, but got held back. You know how it is. Christmas/New Year's celebrations. Dinner parties. Late nights. I tried my hand at peanut butter cookies today and amazingly they're passable! But it still is early-ish. To make up for it I'll post the next chapter up (FINALLY I DON'T HAVE TO START FROM SCRATCH AGAIN) earlier._

_The first half of this fic stands out really strangely (or just plain hackeyed) to me, so I'll have to come back and edit it at a later time. Bear with my end/start of year laziness._

_It is also to be noted that I've never eaten an enchilada myself (though I doubt I'd have the same uh, response as Neji, since my tolerance for spiciness is rather high) so I don't know how hot they actually are and if his reaction to it is actually believable. I just found the word rather catchy. Assuming Neji reacted so horribly to the curry of life, this is what I think would happen if he ate something at least moderately hot (again, I'm assuming enchiladas are only moderately hot). Yeah, I'm rambling. Again._

_OH AND HAPPY NEW YEAR._


	14. Bulletstorm

_Bulletstorm_

Shikamaru would have liked this kind of day if the smoke didn't do so well to cover up his sky. It was kind of mellow, like back before the war began. Sure, they had lost their mode of transport and most of their party, but now that they were only down to ten or so comrades (including the pup) the atmosphere started to feel less claustrophobic and more... _Cosy_, because Shikamaru couldn't quite think of a better word to describe the feeling he felt while he traipsed through the trenches alongside his fellow fighters. He could not deny that brotherly warmth that always made its way to him, straight from their nourishing tutti of laughter. It comforted him, reassured him that his demise wouldn't be so bad when he had such great men to die by.

He sighed into his radio as lazy thoughts floated across his mind. "Babe, I have to go now."

"But... _Shika-" _The voice was fuzzy and unclear, yet it was still familiar to him.

"No 'buts', you _troublesome _woman!" he snarled, and heatedly turned off his radio. His hands spread over his hair, slowly, as if contemplating whether or not to rip it out.

But there was no reall need to worry, of course. He was only stressed out because the whole country was trying their best to toil their way out of some deep shit, bombs were going off in the distance, innocent civilians were getting shot, kids had guns, his mates were getting killed off one by one and all he had ever done to contribute was to cheat on his poor, toiling girlfriend. Well, she wasn't even really his girlfriend anymore, but he did agree to marry her back before the war began, so what difference did it make?

"What the flying fuck am I doing?" he muttered to himself. His feet were steeped in the trenches in which he stood, flooded with half-melted snow. Goddamnit, he could have been developing fat foot for all he knew. It was time for him to change socks again.

"Oi, Chouji. Incoming socks!" he called before chucking them over to his friend.

"Thanks, Brainy! You know, it's real sweet you still call me by name," he replied happily, neatly catching the socks his bud whirled at him. Chouji blinked as his eye was caught in awe of the shiny new decoration proudly suspended from Shikamaru's chest pocket. Chouji added, "you look real smart with your new medal, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru shrugged. "Thanks. But you know, they've stopped with all food cracks."

At the mention of grub, Chouji put a hand on his stomach, moaning. "Don't talk to me about food; I'm almost starving to death as it is!"

"I know you're hungry, Chouji. We all are," Shikamaru mumbled. He pressed his hand to his pocket in search for any leftovers. "Here, pal. You can have my biscuits."

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder with his right hand, Shikamaru used his left to toss Chouji a small tin box. It rattled with the food contained within.

The receiving end caught it and shook his head. He motioned to hand it back. "No. These are your last—"

"I didn't want 'em anyway."

"Shikamaru, you know..."

"Hmm?" Shikamaru twisted around to face his mate. As he did so, in the sharpest corner of his eye he thought he saw an enemy unit. But he then realised it was not only just _one _wandering soldier. A whole other platoon was there, at least, and that wasn't counting the tank.

_Goddamn_.

"Get down, Chouji!" he snapped, flipping back to their lieutenant, "Enemy units spotted!"

Neji made a hasty order, "Down, on your bellies! Nara, how many—"

And before he could finish Shikamaru had already muttered a bleak, "More than thirty, and heavily armed. I see a tank!"

"We're all gonna die—aw shit, I'm too young to die," Fang lamented. He shifted in his crouch uncomfortably, as if he was trying to retreat like a no-good coward.

"Well," Tenten reasoned with him. "You've made it this far, Fang. Why do you think it would be any different now?"

"A hunch, that's what. Dun ya ever just get this gut feeling?"

"Do not fear. Even if we are outnumbered we may sneak our way past them if we're lucky, or carefully ambush them as they come this way. We have a minute or two to decide, but they are approaching fast." Neji's scowl did not thin the weight of the air. "Alternatively, we could call for backup."

The group were then stuck in grave debate, though that discussion did not last a moment longer than one soldier's objection. Before long, Uzumaki Naruto had come up with another one of his whirlwind plans. "You think I can get 'em on my own, sir?" He grinned, with his merman eyes twinkling under the shying sun. His golden sinews flexed in anticipation.

"Absolutely not, Uzumaki! Stay down," was the reply, forced out sharply through Neji's teeth.

"Are you ten shades of moron or aren't you, Fishcakes?" Tenten added on the other side of him.

"Look, kid. You can shoot those bastards fine from over 'ere. Quit showin' off!" Asuma scoffed from the far left.

Naruto laughed him off, "How will I get a grenade over there if I'm so far away?"

"I wouldn't doubt him." Sasuke sat quietly behind his companion, rifle loaded. "Go, Naruto. I'll cover you."

"That is not your place to say, Uchiha. Watch it," Neji warned. His mien became dim and he stretched over a cautionary arm towards Sasuke.

Lee shook his head and cried, "We beg of you, do not go so foolishly! That would be suicide."

Silently, Hinata watched on, praying that Naruto would not go through with such a brutal resolution. Even though he almost never looked her way, she fixed upon him her gaze with pleading eyes that spoke much for themselves.

But alas, ignoring all that the team had said, Naruto stepped eagerly over the edge of the trench, fanning Neji aflame.

"Uzumaki, Uchiha. Return to your positions _now_! Did you hear me? _N__ow_!" Neji growled. "That is a direct order!"

It was no use, however. Now they could only watch, not that they'd have to since they could hear his _believe it-_s override the rhythm of bullets behind the trench as he relentlessly fired his machine gun at their foes. "Take that, and that, and _this!_"

Everyone scrunched up their noses then, covering Naruto with the little ammunition they had left. The crazy bastard had better be safe.

And then there was the sweet sound of an explosion, and all too familiar ring resonating through their eardrums. Naruto had nabbed the tank for sure, and it almost seemed as if it were safe to move on.

"Well, shit. We're only at the—what, supporting line, and we have people shootin' at us? Seriously, guys?" Fang panicked.

"Keep your mouth shut and keep on covering the fool," Shino chided. "It is all we may be able to do for him now."

"B-B-But, _Bugs!_" Fang pleaded. "Just look at the guy, I mean he's... he's..."

Fang was abruptly cut off as he heard Naruto yell from a distance away, "Clear!"

* * *

And slowly, the platoon came crawling out.

Naruto still had this ridiculous grin on his face as gave the team a great big thumbs-up. "I did a good job, eh?"

In awe, Fang stared with his jaw to the ground. "How'd you...?"

"You're really something, Kid." Asuma applauded. The rest then followed his lead and took their turns at heaping praise on the newly proclaimed one-man-show. After that job was finished, they meekly searched the abandoned tank for supplies. Sasuke was assigned the task of finishing off the escaping commander.

Neji, who wore a stern scowl stretched across his face, stood far from his celebratory team. Stepping close to his subordinate, he grabbed him by the collar. "Don't you dare _ever_ do that again! Understand?"

Naruto winced the moment Neji's fist clenched up tight against his chest, and they both realised then that his palm had become sleeked over with blood. Hinata's face, much further away from the scene, crumpled up in concern. She ran up to the two and cried, "Neji, please...!"

The second the realisation hit him, Neji showed actual _guilt _for not doing more than he did, and his face filled with genuine apology. But the fleeting bearing only stayed for a moment, and in the next he reverted back to his old frowning self.

So there it was, in all its caustic glory, right under Naruto's collarbone, a bullet wound.

"See what you have gotten yourself into, Uzumaki?"

"Naw, naw. It's just... it's just a-a scratch!"

The lieutenant let out a defeated sigh, and caught Naruto by the arm, presenting him to the rest of his men. "This," His hand directed toward the bloodied shirt, "is a perfect example of the insanity and idiocy I spoke of earlier. You should do well in the future to stray away from this troop's example."

Sasuke cringed, really cringed, and scrambled to the wounded in a few quick steps. Regardless of Naruto's weak status, Sasuke laid upon his arm a firm punch. "You're a dumbass, you know that? Always were and always will be."

As for Hinata? Well, the situation was rather self-explanatory.

"Uchiha," Neji began in a calm tone, "You did not seem to think so when he first decided to commit this act of foolishness, however brave he may have been. Now you learn so quickly that it could have cost him his life. I am quite frankly impressed."

But his effort at tranquillity only became yet another scornful chiding followed by a beautiful, mocking smirk.

A grunt escaped Sasuke's lips as he took Naruto's arm in his and stormed off to who knows where. Neji leaved them be, as if he were no longer concerned with their safety after the risky stunt they had just pulled. He quickly apologising to Hinata for his rudeness in dealing with him, because it had to be done.

"So from now on, you will all do well to listen to my orders," he said, turning to his men.

A unanimous nod spread throughout the platoon, each as grim faced as the other.

Now, Neji's scorching look mitigated, and he announced that they were to move up north toward the camp, however, the closest infirmary was located there; Naruto would have to wait probably more a week before he could be given proper medical treatment by a surgeon, and Hinata too if she were to join up with another hospital.

"But he'll be okay until then, right?" a few men called to Neji.

"My intention is not to worry you, soldiers, but our path will not be easy. We will lose some of you fine men along the way; that much is certain. Even so, I will try my best to keep you alive. For now, focus on enemy snipers. When we get further north, we will take cover in the trenches until nightfall, otherwise you most certainly will die. Out there, we'll be constantly under sniper fire, you got that? There we will join with the brigade holding that front, for we will need to help each other in order to crush our enemy. We already lost the majority of our men as it is."

There were a few groans from his remaining soldiers, but generally they agreed to behave and obey.

So they pushed on in single file behind their lieutenant, until Tenten had to admit that she was tired. She honestly didn't want to, but she certainly could not be able to cast off a few certain memories from her earlier childhood, like riding on Lee's back after a particularly enervating afternoon at the dojo. Sometimes after that she'd treat him to ice cream in exchange for the piggyback. She could never quite forget the face he pulled every time she offered him the treat. His big eyes always stared bulging in wonder at the scoop, which he usually rejected at first. She had told him on more than one occasion that he looked like a chipmunk of sorts, nibbling slowly with his teeth at the sweet after she had persuaded him to accept her gift.

It was different now. She had her stubborn arrogance, and he respected that. They were in the middle of the battlefield and no one wanted to be burdened by the weight of another. Even so, she often wanted to swap places with Lee. She wanted a chance to look after him after he'd done so much for her for so many years.

She seethed with humility, and hung her head in shame. Lee caught her sullen look instantly, but chose to speak nothing of it in order to protect her pride. Instead he attempted to start a conversation concerning their favourite Bruce Lee films, but to no avail.

* * *

"Agreed, man." Fang huffed. "I'm gettin' blisters on my blisters." Stopping his monologue about how his mother and sister abandoned him and threw him out in the streets with nothing but a propaganda flyer, he changed to making a few bad jokes about his feet.

Neji imposingly shook his head, just as worn as anyone else's. "No, we must make haste until nightfall. Only until then we may rest."

Everyone's face looked more or less the same now. They mirrored all each other. Blood didn't quite meet their cheeks, and so they were washed over with a layer of white. Lips were discoloured and eyes were weary, with darker circles highlighted over their pale skin. Some men's chins were bristly with stubble left unshaven from the morning. All had dishevelled hair and stained faces, smeared with blood, cold sweat, tears and a little dirt thrown in too.

"If you want my say, I think you should let the kids have a rest, boss," Asuma put in.

"You of all people should know how dangerous it is if we stop here." Neji glared darkly at him, but put down his rifle nonetheless. "However, I would be a complete fool to deny that we are all on our last legs. I suppose we should stop as soon as we have found an acceptable shelter."

"Might I be so rude to ask, what exactly an 'acceptable shelter' is?" Sasuke spat, an arm ready to support the weakened Naruto. Naruto tried to intercept him, but Sasuke was least of all willing to listen to him at a time like this. "This is no time for games."

"Humph, you try sleeping out here in the open and we'll all be dead by dawn," Neji scoffed.

Asuma backed him up. "I've gotta say, he's right."

Deeply agitated, Sasuke gave an aggravated grunt. He did not like to be backfired, not at all. "That's not what I _meant_!"

"Sasuke, don't argue with your superiors," Shino calmly reprimanded. "We're tired enough as it is, and it is not in your right to speak to him like this."

Fang let out a yowl, offering a handshake toward the frizzy-haired sangfroid. It was at moments like these that he appeared truly insane with his hair sticking up in his head, along with that wild grin on his face that always appeared so wolfish, so wild. "Bugs, that's it! I've always wanted to say that to 'im, 'cept in not so many words. But I was always kind of afraid what he'd do to me. Look at those eyes hiding behind that hair of his! You've got guts, I gotta tell ya."

Silently and coolly, the bug fanatic accepted Fang's compliment with no words offered in return.

Sasuke on the other hand, looked ready to kill. Well, it wasn't just the murky aura arising around him; he _was _indeed filled with murderous intent when he lunged for Fang's throat. Just as his nails brushed against Fang's neck however, Neji stopped him in his tracks by grabbing a firm hold of the back of his collar, keeping him back quite stiffly.

"Get out of my team, Uchiha," Neji ordered. "Get _out_."

"You should know, kid. Never hurt a guy who's on _your _side." Asuma shrugged, sucking on his cigarette.

"Ow," Fang yelped, feeling the area that had been scratched, "_Bitch, _that hurt!"

"Hey, asshole, let go of him!" Naruto shouted, taking Neji by the shoulders. "And you should know how high up the stick shoved up his ass his—just as far as the one in your own!" Now, Naruto let out a tinkling laugh. "Please, boss. Let 'im stay. He means no harm, honest."

Neji was not facing them, and had already let go of Sasuke, who _tsch-_ed and stomped off ahead, followed in a timely fashion by Naruto, who seemed to be completely ignoring his arm.

The lieutenant had already spotted a good candidate to rest in, a scrawny thicket in the direction Sasuke and Naruto where headed. It would have been a better cover if the shrubs were intact, but it would easily fit a half a score of men. They could utilise the wonders of camouflage if the snow didn't already do a well enough job. Neji explained they had found a place to stay for the night.

* * *

And later that evening, Neji paid no attention to Sasuke glaring at him across the extra-tiny campfire, built so small to nourish the strong desire of keeping themselves discreet. As always, Shikamaru and Asuma played a continuous stream of chess, with the latter not winning a single game. Chouji was stationed at the entrance of the grove and was ordered to keep watch.

For once, Fang was quiet, leisurely pacing to finish the little food he had received. He took the extra time to stroke Akamaru on the head. Apparently when Shino asked, he was "saying his last words." The inquirer then grumbled something very equivocal under his breath.

Naruto had fallen fast asleep long before Shikamaru and Asuma had started their tenth game. Everyone was gentle around him, their hero for today. Earlier in the afternoon Neji had grabbed his surgical kit, and with his basic first aid removed the bullet lodged in Naruto's poor arm (he had volunteered for the honour after Hinata so squeamishly chickened out). Naruto had remarked that it "_bloody hurts"_ while digging his nails into the soil, teeth pressed hard up against each other. Neji refused him any morphine; there wouldn't be enough to go around "later on".

Nestled deep in their hideout, Lee would have given Tenten a foot-rub if they were back home. He would have washed over the blemished feet with hot water. But they didn't have any hot water, if any at all and even if he did, it would look terribly suspicious to do so. So instead of doing just that, Lee dourly drew pictures in the snow. Tenten joined him in the trivial activity after she had come up with no other way to pass the time, though Neji had encouraged everyone to sleep as much as they could. They were to be woken up a good few hours before twilight, and they needed to rest up as much as they could.

Far after everyone had fallen asleep, Neji still kept scouting the battlefield outside. Even at that hour nothing was calm. In the distance he could hear shells firing from cannons and planes looming overhead, an ambience that brought with it wondrous fantasies of flight, as inappropriate as it was to daydream at the time.

How he longed to one day pilot his very own mechanical bird, and fly out to the heart of the sky. The front was not so far now. The time had come for him to get his share of sleep, but he felt neither tired nor willing to let Ryuu, no, Tenten take his place, as everyone else had done so before them and only she had to take up the post.

Not without guilt he turned his eyes on her sleeping face, leaning forward to get a better look of her. Her hair had grown to the middle of her neck since he first met her, and she tied it back with a wiry hair band she had borrowed from Shikamaru. It was surprising that seemingly no one had noticed her obvious femininity as of yet, for not even the most effeminate man had a face such as hers. No man that he knew of anyway.

The moonshine that sieved from the thistle and snow above made her face wisp up in a terribly feathery way.

And then the next thought did not fail to take Neji by surprise. He suddenly, mysteriously developed a longing to take her chin and brush a thumb over those lips. But alas it would not be so even in his wildest dreams. Instead a lock of hair fell obsequiously out of place, blowing over to settle across her nose. Gently he shifted it aside in a soft caress. There was his pulse going again, all over the place. He knew he was done here. No one could hold their breath forever.

Now that he was surer of his orientation his heart opened to invite the irregular palpitations and soaring, conflagrating creatures that churned his insides.

And finally, he knew _exactly _how Hinata felt.

* * *

Upon retreating back to his corner a land grabbed him from the left, and the one called Rock Lee was glaring at him, eyes crackling with ferocity. "What do you think you are doing?"

"There was this lock of hair and it... Oh." Neji filled with glum understanding, and his stomach plunged so low he wasn't sure if he could find it again. "You and her, you are..."

Lee loosened his fingers coiled around Neji's arm, and in its place was a budding bruise. His visage loosened into a cool look of indifference, a very rare expression for Lee. "Yes, a while ago. That is supposing I comprehend correctly your implications, sir."

"What implications?"

"That we were lovers," Lee whispered, crawling toward the outside. "We should talk elsewhere, or we may wake her up otherwise."

Neji followed after him, a hot blush breaking out into his face. "I-I'm sorry to be so rude but..."

"You like her don't you, sir?" Lee smiled, still not dropping his civil demeanour.

"Well, I-I..." As soon as Neji caught himself tripping over his tongue, which he close to never did, he immediately regained his composure. Not even Hiashi had made him so nervous. "I am not sure. But even if I did, why would you have any objection to it?"

Bitterly, Lee laughed. "No, that is not it," he said, pausing to look Neji in the eye, "I would not mind at all. Just if you so much hurt a hair on her head, sir, I don't know what I'd do to you. And it seemed that you well... Well. I'll leave it to your own interpretation, sir."

Neji nodded and turned toward her, and then back to Lee. His lips folded into a smile. "Since we are both up, would you like to stay with me for the duration of her shift? I am afraid that I'd fall asleep otherwise. She looks so at peace. I could not disturb her for the world."

Lee deferentially agreed, and then there was one thing left to say before Neji let the chance slip by.

"Oh yes, I never had the chance to thank you personally, for saving my life back during the winter."

"You are most welcome," Lee replied, "It was the youthful thing to do!"

"It's silly." Neji laughed in self-depreciation. "I had requested that she tell you this on my behalf."

"I know," Lee said with a smile. "She tells me everything."

Neji generated a small smirk. "A lucky man you are, Lee."

Lee grinned in return. "Right you are, sir!"

* * *

First draft: 1/11/2010

_Well, I think Naruto's role in this chapter has been subconsciously inspired from Waltz with Bashir – there is one amazing scene in the film where a soldier simply grabs a MAG (at least I think it was) and begins a bullet dance against this whole heap of heavily-armed snipers against the backdrop of a poster of the titular Bashir, dodging _**every single bullet shot at him**_, and _**surviving**. _And it is simply awesome. Unlikely, but awesome. _

_It's a good movie; I'd recommend it!_

_Now, whoa! Reviews popped up from 66 to 83! That's about 16. Oh, man. I am endlessly indebted to you, my readers. I can't say anything about the hits though – they didn't register at the time of posting._

_Finally, some information on when the next update will come. Well, the next update might come a bit later than usual. Because the next chapter needs to be beefed up a considerable bit and chapter 16 has to be started from scratch yet AGAIN. But, if it makes you feel any better, um... Chapter 16 will come with a very... _different _approach._

_Until then, enjoy the holidays!_


	15. Interval

_Interval_

Though neither man said any more, even in their wordlessness their previously thin bond strengthened. Lee honoured Neji's agreement, and kept with him until it was time to leave.

"It's time," Neji murmured, and under the cover of predawn, everyone exited the safety of the thicket by crawling out, one by one.

As always, Neji guided the platoon—more like a squad now, and Asuma kept a rear view from the tail. Shikamaru and Chouji were never far from him, as Shikamaru was too lazy to walk at a proper pace and Chouji had made it a habit not to keep up, even with his distinctive thinning.

Other than that, it was a relatively brisk journey to the front, spread over three days and two nights. They camped first in an abandoned trench and then a natural cove spent their time joyfully joking around, sang and made merry until it was time for them to hit the mattresses—or at least the floor.

* * *

When they finally reached their destination they ran into thousands of other soldiers, some blind and dismembered, others enjoying a long, strong drink that could have very well been their last. It was the infirmary all over again, except this time, the blood was where they headed forward to fight, while others were carrying out the reverse and retreating.

Neji was leading his squad to find his uncle. A ripe man just newly promoted to General, his office shouldn't have been too difficult to find. But taking to account the mess of people and confused artillery they faced now, finding General Hyuuga Hiashi was possibly the hardest thing Neji had tried to accomplish so far.

The lieutenant pushed his way patiently through the crowd, and only after asking countless soldiers who were either dumb or deaf did he finally find his uncle's tent.

Of course, Neji asked for admittance first before he made his entry. There was no door, however, so he could only pop his head in and ask in the most curt tone-of-voice possible, "May we enter?"

The crinkled general gave an inviting wave of his hand, welcoming the rest of the group in. Hinata was excluded as she meekly hid outside, not yet ready to meet her father.

"Uncle!" Neji laughed, expressing true relief. The tired creases in Neji's face loosened just that little bit. The tired general granted his nephew a smile and offered a furrowed hand to the said kinsman.

"Glad you made it this far, nephew," he began. Neji levelled his tired backbone, giving his uncle a tense salute. The rest of the squad did the same. "It seems your journeys have worn you out, so tonight you go and have yourselves a good, long rest and storm out tomorrow at the top of your game."

"Sir, yes, sir!" the team chanted in unison.

"So I am understood? Good men," Hiashi paused, coughing, "And Neji, do have a seat. The rest of you are dismissed."

All but Neji headed out the door.

* * *

"How do you fare, dear uncle?" Neji enquired, never dropping his gracious tone for a fraction of a second as he sat.

"Fairly, m'boy. But you! You must be weary from your travels, Neji," Hiashi answered, presenting Neji a cup of warm tea. "Drink up. Calms the heart and soothes the cold." Hiashi smiled; skin pleating in the corners of his eyes as he eyed his nephew. However, his cordial manner quickly dissipated when he took notice of the figure behind him.

Hinata was peering in through the opening of the tent.

Without further delay, her father's stern grimace had her running as far away as possible from him, the tent's soiled fabric rustling in her wake. Hiashi abruptly stopped the small talk, all but dropping the cup before it met Neji's hands. Then he flexed his gaze to settle, unforgivingly, on his nephew.

His eyes, like all Hyuuga, were a deadening steel gray. Neji's notorious stone glower was nothing compared to this man's—the patriarch had honed the technique to perfection. Unrelenting, implacable, vindictive, Hiashi held Neji tight in his lock.

"_What_ is my daughter doing _here_?"

Neji's face fell crestfallen into his hands.

"Naruto is here," he sighed indistinctively.

Upon hearing those three words alone, Hiashi grappled into the same position, fingers digging hard into the bridge of his nose.

"God help us all," he prayed.

The tent fell into a silence for a minute or two, a silence unbroken until an unidentifiable soldier strolled in and made a report. Hiashi's scowl deepened, and sent the scout away with a flick of his hand. This broke the tension fast forming between the two Hyuuga, but visibly worsened the elder's overall metre of stress.

"I assume things are not looking well, sir?" said Neji.

"No, not at all," sighed Hiashi, stopping to flick through some of his files, "I most sorry for burdening you with my own stress, my child. Your father would not have appreciated my behaving toward you like that." Hiashi reached for his supplies, to take out a few gifts for his nephew.

Neji shook his head. "There is no need for you to apologise, sir. I am to blame, as I should not have allowed her to come this far."

"No, no, child. That girl has a mind of her own," Hiashi said. "If only she were more prudent like you, Neji."

He began to open up some drawers, picking out a few things from them. Once he was ready, Hiashi beckoned him over.

On his desk sat a treasure trove's worth of gold: a rather intricately ornate pistol, an antique, functioning watch, a few pairs of socks, a bar or two of milk chocolate, a stack of writing paper and a box full of cigarettes. Neji observed them in appreciation.

"Your father would have wanted to have these things here," said Hiashi. "He would be so proud of you."

With a snap of his fingers, a soldier came by to help Neji with his new inventory whilst the boy was still gaping at the mysterious artefacts. And then, heaving a heavy sigh, Hiashi sent Neji off with a few parting words.

"I have placed great faith in you, my boy. See to it that you survive this battle, and when you do, I'll be waiting here to congratulate you—with no less a captain's rank. I have no time for idle chit-chat now; I have to make some amends. But tonight we will have much to catch up upon, Neji."

"Sir," Neji said. "When should I be coming back?"

"Twenty hundred hours. I'll have us some refreshments prepared."

The two men smiled at each other, and Neji quietly left the tent with the offerings he had acquired.

Behind that smile, however, Neji was not as thrilled about the thought of promotion as he was expected to have been. Rank was again another fruitless necessity, one that furthered no good cause. He didn't know about Hiashi, but Neji believed that there was no good that came of having more helplessly naive, young boys at his disposal, waiting for your his to die.

Neji had never believed that it did, and never would. Hiashi wasn't terribly clever in his dissection of what Neji wanted, nor did he leave much room for listening. Still, Neji had to commend him for trying, not that he was ever actually going to tell that to his uncle's face.

And, teenage angst aside, Neji had to admit, giving into the palpable emotional-bribery for a second, that the gifts Hiashi had presented him were indeed... nice. Especially the watch. There was an odd familiarity he felt when inspecting the watch, though nothing solid came to mind.

A laugh. A _tick_. A _tock_. A smile.

Sorely confused, Neji strapped it around his wrist for further investigation.

* * *

Upon stepping outside, the team had predictably dispersed, to Neji's great frustration. It didn't particularly matter however; he would find them in time, though they may not have still been in his command by then.

Hinata was the first he found, located discreetly, yet awkwardly beside her father's tent. She was fiddling with her thumbs, a_gain._

Neji sighed and approached her with a sympathetic smile.

"Will he see me?" she whispered softly, dusting off her bloody apron.

"He didn't say." Neji took her hand and walked her so that the men saw as little of her as possible. Hinata was _not _to be the subject of their ogles, and certainly not harassed by the means of such lowlifes. "Shall I escort you to your destination, then?"

Hinata made a noise and bobbed her head, while Neji wore a cheeky grin he only reserved for his cherished cousin.

"Or would you like to speak to Naruto before we leave?" he teased.

His remark certainly caught her off-guard; Hinata was knocked speechless. He knew her all too well!

"Shall we?" asked Neji again, grabbing a hold of her hand. Hinata then spaced out, gaping for a whole ten seconds, letting him drag her by until she regained her senses, and pulled back.

"Please don't make me do this, Neji..."

Neji stopped as she stopped, and their characteristic Hyuuga glares collided in a cold, swordless duel of grey against grey. This was, however, as far as Neji would go when he tried to express an explicit opinion towards his lady cousin. Then he released his stare and looked away quickly; he did not wish to argue with the insecure Hinata.

"These feelings you've harboured for him have been festering for years," Neji explained, calm but adamant. "What is keeping you from vocalising them?"

"The same reason why Shikamaru ignores that poor girl and the same reason why _you _keep around Ryuu so much, but refuse to accept that you're..." Hinata coughed; her words were forming much faster than usual, and her tongue failed to process the sheer capacity of and speed of her execution. That, and the fact that she was to sorely regret what she was about to say. "Never mind. I'm sorry, Neji. For snapping at you like that."

Neji shook his head, muttering Ryuu's name under his breath.

"Forget it," he grumbled. His rifle was slipping over his shoulder, and so he threw it back again. "But you will at least pay Fang a visit, no? I know it would mean the world to him."

At the mention of him, Hinata held her hand against her mouth. "Oh, Fang, oh no! I've completely forgotten about him..."

"That you did," said Neji. The obvious obliviousness of his entire platoon frustrated him to no end, and he lifted a palm to his face in disappointment.

Ignoring Neji's display of dissatisfaction, Hinata asked, "Might you know where I may find him, cousin?"

"No. But you were standing here when they left. Lady Hinata, have you any memory of which direction they headed?"

Neji rubbed at his eyes. He was tired from the lack of sleep from the last night, and thoroughly confused about what he was to do of his... feelings for Tenten, and did not want to deal with finding his disobedient party anytime soon. Not until he did get a few hours of sleep anyway. His mental stamina was slowly but surely deteriorating.

Filling in for Tenten had been quite the unwise decision.

"They went east, but Mr. Uzumaki was kind enough to inform me that they were 'off for some horizontal refreshment'," she explained. "Have you an idea of what he means by that?"

Neji groaned, fingers pulling back from his brow. "_Shit."_

"Whatever's the matter?" Hinata's brows slanted with concern.

"Poor girls," Neji muttered. "I suspect that your friends—Sakura and Ino, were they?—are in grave danger. Come with me."

Without a further need for explanation, Hinata followed her cousin.

Headed up a somewhat ragged, cliffy hill, they finally had a clear view of the abbey on the east, unscathed unlike the rest of the battlefield. Seeing the size of the building however, it looked to have barely fitted a quarter of the camp as a whole.

* * *

Breaking in through the front door, the blond-knuckleheaded-number-one-super-trooper was in plain view. He did not see the others, but assumed that they couldn't be far behind.

Neji took a wild guess and figured that Naruto had tried to peek up the pink-haired girl's skirt, and in turn was served straight with a good punch in the teeth. Thus explaining his writhing in pain on the floor.

He then hesitated to involve himself in the action as he barely had the right to do so, but Hinata was quicker to greet her two fellow nurses, breaking in a jog to greet them.

"Sakura!"

"Oh!" Sakura cried. She held her arms out for a tight hug. Averting their attention completely, both girls went on to ignore either boy, and Hinata was swept away before in a storm of girlish chatter before Neji could even check back at his cousin.

Once Neji had realised it, he figured that she had been the slightest bit uncomfortable in his company. He didn't quite let the avoidant message that came with it go to his head and he did not keep from feeling quite irate after she'd left without a word.

But whatever. What matted _now_ was putting Naruto back in his place. Neji stomped after him, all but hitting Naruto in an attempt to wring an apology from his lips. And promptly after confirming that the "sorry," had left Naruto's mouth, the lieutenant then sent him straight to the matron for proper medical attention.

As stupid and disrespectful as the idiot was, it wasn't in Neji's code of ethics to keep a man away from his rightful treatment.

* * *

After he presented Naruto with a well-earned scolding, Neji headed back to the heart of the camp, and checked his new watch.

Though it was still a good mid-afternoon, it felt much, _much _later for Neji. His body screamed for rest; it became difficult to keep his eyes open. Being too tired to care, Neji dropped his initial plans to search for his separated team and opted for a good, long nap.

* * *

When the clock finally prepared to strike eight, Neji made his trip back into Hiashi's tent. Feeling rather fresh after his much-needed catch-up sleep, Neji felt that little bit optimistic as he made his way to his uncle.

Elevating the flap of the tent, as promised, Neji was greeted with crackers, cheese and a cupful of tawny port.

Stepping forward and sitting upon the stool offered, his tongue lapped up the sweet liquid, and heaved a sigh of pleasure. Hiashi always had such a great taste in beverages.

"How is the wine?"

"Perfect, sir."

Hiashi made another one of his crinkled smiles, and pushed a clipboard towards Neji. Attached to it a form for the team assigned to him.

"First things first Neji. Fill out that form."

Neji did as he was told and filled out the form, reluctantly etching in the names of those he had journeyed up until then, knowing full well that in return for their company, he would be the one held responsible for their deaths.

But when it came down to it, it was a penalty that was well worth the risk.

* * *

The two then talked till a good nine-thirty, blissfully unaware that the elder man's execution was being planned to the last strand of hair that very second—not that anyone on the premises was even moderately aware.

Not far now, one woman was about to carry out her personal vendetta—steathily waiting, watching, until her time had come.

* * *

_Feel free to tack on the criticism. I deserve it for this chapter given the inconsistencies and general lack of effort put into it. The chapter is all over the place, but I honestly don't know what I am going to do about it at this current point in time. Some bits will be better and others considerably worse because they were written during entirely different months. _


	16. The Hourglass, II

_The Hourglass, _

The woman, god bless, that we speak of was lightning-in-a-bottle, a master coquette, mistress of kisses, a shameless sinner, the carnation of Lucifer in delicious female form, and most of all, a force not to be reckoned with.

To truly know her one must have understood the principle of her being—that her body was a unique weapon. A fine blade, forged upon the squeaky mattress of her Suna-bred parents, who saw battle in the way of clever deception and other subtleties.

Her story began years and years before her birth, when her dirt-poor homeland had suffered from one diplomatic failure after another. Her country had never quite been at its highest political peak, despite the many sacrifices they were forced to enact in order to counter that very dilemma. She grew up as one of many young fighters, and from a tender age, she and her two brothers were brought up winners, survivors, _killers. _They became bite sized little prodigies, and once her steel had been tempered in blood, there was no turning back.

As a regular girl, Temari hadn't dreamed that the edge of her sword were to be her womanly wiles, and the secret to enemy penetration her charm, especially of the kind displayed in bedrooms... Not to mention and ballrooms and boardrooms and couches and alleyways, if just for some variety. But as she grew older, she developed into quite the desert beauty her poor country was renowned for—sandy hair, sun-kissed skin, big, blue eyes, a killer smile and sumptuous curves—and her role in her nation's struggle for power proved obvious.

Immediately taking notice of her beauty and confidence, many a suggestion arose concerning her recruitment within the military. At first, she responded to these offers with lewd snarks, not taking seriously their seemingly ridiculous jokes. As time passed however, she let the compliments actually go to her pretty little head, sat herself down, and had a serious think about her future—a session that proved to utterly change the direction her life would take, forever.

* * *

Once she, the daughter of a then great commander, offered to put in her own efforts for her country, they got to work immediately and taught her how to speak in code, transmit radio messages, anything necessary for her entry into espionage – which included of course, sexual allure.

She caught on quickly, and, first closely following their advice, completed her training at record breaking speeds. Fast-sticking to her training, Temari fitted right into the racy image they had been going for, and was quickly put to use. Not surprisingly, she then went on to succeed in many of her attempts at high-ranking officers and the like.

Thus, Temari rapidly climbed up the ranks of foreign notoriety, conversely, legendary status back home, and became one of Suna's top assassin-spies.

And through the many hotels and metres of silk lace, Temari was coined the codename "The Hourglass". Quite the fitting name for a woman of her nationality, notoriety and... _Occupation:_ There was no denying that every man—and the odd female—wanted her and every woman wanted to be her.

She became a woman who literally knew her worth, as it was essential to her survival that she kept checking back to see the new bounty that was placed upon her head. For a while she even took great delight in it; Temari wouldn't have it any other way.

She had truly found the good life, after all.

...Terrific tequila, pretty panties, amiable apartments, lavishing lovers and the occasional _mind-blowing... _adventure that they were often packaged with.

With a life so full of fun, Temari found it difficult to untie herself from any knot... That was, until both her brothers had been slain by one of Konoha's pesky interceptions.

* * *

Her previously vague and neglected prospects of eternal solitude fast festered into something a whole lot realer than any nightmare.

She couldn't comprehend the very idea at first, as her littlest brother, Gaara was closest as humankind was to get to indestructibility, and her other junior was seemingly as tough as they could get. The moment the scout shivered his way in and told her, she merely assumed he was just... just _fucking with her._

"I like your sense of humour, kid. But that isn't going to do much for my _aching _back," Temari groaned, reaching sultrily for the nape of her neck. "Would you, darling?"

The young boy would not meet her eye, and instead meekly pushed up his spectacles. His knees were trembling; he gulped, quite audibly, and appeared rather convincing for a moment.

...Then an elongated silence ensued, disbelief became plain denial, and that soon rotted up sour, finally settling as a sharp, bitter taste on her tongue.

"I see," she said. The boy then stared a little too long, and since Temari's patience had been driven to its finest edge, she shooed him away with a flick of her hand.

* * *

Who was going to miss her when she was gone?

Not Gaara, not Kankuro; her brothers were dead. And even had they'd been alive, she doubted that they would have cared _anyway. _But still, she remembered _them, _didn't she? Maybe it was because she _had _time. Time to fix their broken siblinghood. But now, that time had been taken away from her, and suddenly, she felt as if she had just lost the world.

Caustic, she even laughed. Was it natural to be in such a state of numbed apathy?

Suicide. It had been a probable cause of action for a few seconds or so, as it was evident that once the war began she would lose her life one way or another, either swallow that bitter pill by her own accord or risk capture and as a result, torture and eventually, execution. Sure, she had never been close with either of her two brothers, but they were close to the only thing she had left.

However, Temari had loved life too much to let it go, and that she would not be ready to go until she hunted down the man responsible for her siblings' premature demise. Perhaps then she'd settle down quietly with someone who could love her.

As much as she liked playing the femme fatale, well, who could she lean on for support when she was ninety-three with her lungs full of holes?

* * *

One uneventful day between assignments, Temari had been sitting alone at a random, modest little restaurant in downtown Konoha. That's when she found offhand Shikamaru, who was at the time of their first meeting seated exactly two seats away from her.

She had ordered a helping of boiled eggs, to which Shikamaru had overheard, luckily enough, and stumbled over muttering a few unflattering things about the dish. The comment left the waitress unaffected, though the same could not be said for the chef.

Mistaking Temari as his date, they were both driven out of sight.

"Oh gee," Shikamaru moaned, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Look, I'm sorry."

Putting forward one of her many facades, Temari took on an airheaded persona and laughed him off. It was the quickest solution out, after all.

"I'm sorry; I was too busy keeping an eye out for my boyfriend! What was that?" she said.

He groaned again, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I'll make it up to you. Let me take you somewhere good."

"But my..."

"Yeah, _yeah_. Your boyfriend. Sure. He'll be here any minute now," he scoffed, strolling in a northward direction, "If he were real."

* * *

Shikamaru showed her to a restaurant identical in interior to the last, though it carried an aroma a little more inviting and a little less cold. He quietly paid for and ordered her meal, which turned out to be an oddly cooked mackerel with a good serving of seaweed on the side. Surprisingly, it was rather good.

And then, off some silly whim of hers, Temari started up a conversation. A conversation which was succeeded with accidental glances, migration to a seedy tavern, a couple of crude beers, happy hour, more drinks, two Screaming Orgasms, one handjob, his doorstep, and finally his sock covered mattress... All leading up to the beginning of an affair to remember.

Of course, it is not to be said that their start was entirely without conflict; Shikamaru thought her "troublesome", whilst Temari found him detached at best. But he oozed with that _just-don't-give-a-shit _attitude and no matter how she tried, she wanted more of him. Despite his promises to that pig-headed girlfriend of his, Temari was still able to ensnare him with her years and years of practice. After all, Temari was more than just used to filling the role of "the other woman"; she was a living, breathing symbol of just what a woman was able to achieve with naught but the... _bare _essentials.

* * *

Their affair was nothing short of magnificent; Shikamaru saw through all her layers and layers of innuendo and spurious frivolity and brought out the witty, bloodthirsty, deadpan snarker within his lover. Following that reveal, their backwards and forwards bickering from then on proved to be more a sign of affection rather than anything else.

Amazingly, in spite of her apparent cynicism and snappy, sardonic remarks and notwithstanding his laziness, lack of commitment, prior engagement, and the fact that he had never thought as to utter _those_ three words, he came closer to loving her than anyone had ever done so before.

She let him unsheathe her scabbard, curve his hand round the groove of her hilt, drawing her from the crusty earth in which she was lodged, his to wield.

No man had accomplished such a feat before, and no one would ever hope to do so again. Temari had made a decision that Shikamaru would be the first, and the last man to ever reach out and touch her like so. _Actually_ harbouring feelings for her men was a no-no; she had no time for mistakes and weaknesses, no matter how seemingly minor and insignificant.

But it was the little things that got to her, such as him spending all his precious free time tutoring Temari on the art of chess, and then purposefully losing every single game against her. Or on days he felt too lazy to do so, simply bring her up to the roof of his unit and show her his favourite view.

Then there was the fact that he was hands down the sexiest man she had the pleasure of knowing.

There was always a consideration for her side of the story – was he too fast, too slow? If there was a misplaced elbow here or there, Shikamaru would always ask before continuing the stroke of his adroit hips.

Of the physical health of their frolicking, satisfactory was an understatement for Temari.

* * *

As time wore on, things changed. In the long run the change was for the better good of their romance, but for Temari, it was a drastic alteration of environment.

What had once been a casual distraction had resulted in something far more profound than Temari had intended.

The longest period of time Temari had ever been with somebody had maxed out at about less than a month, but her so-called "fling" had been carrying on for a good half year, with no intention of a split ever crossing her mind. She cut her ties to her country, and deserted all the assignments she was given, just to spend time with her new hobby. When revaluated, Temari's actions put her in a particularly dangerous position, but hey, she was a tough girl and additionally, one who deserved the indulgence.

Her hard-to-get tactics also instigated a precipitous drop and soon enough, she slept with him as much as she wanted to. Losing grip on all her formerly compulsory control was an act which previously would have maddened her to no ends, but she allowed it to happen anyway.

Following the ditching of her defensive mechanisms, Temari's true self soon began to show. The jovial airs that she had put on initially soon began to dissipate, and she began to scold him, gradually building up her bitterness. Though it was to note that Shikamaru never minded this, as he thought her quickly changing attitudes more a show of endearment, if anything. Ino had gone through the same process after all, and it only proved that Temari was growing closer to him. She was beginning to express to him her honest opinion, and that was a critical element in any healthy relationship (or so he was told).

The extent of her trust with him was only limited to the revealing of her past, as it was one that would put both of them at great risk in the oncoming years.

* * *

Before long, Temari began to make appearances amongst his friends and their liaisons soon became obvious quickly after.

And even if only for a while, even if she would never tell him, Shikamaru made her happy. Really, _really _happy, every time he ignored Ino-hog's calls in her stead, each day she woke up to find him still stuck, bead by bead of sweat at her side. And then there was that once when he presented her with his key all oiled and shiny, just for her.

Temari was so happy that she was nigh on actual _tears _when war reared its ugly head and claimed Shikamaru with Chouji, who'd prodded his head in, quite rudely, through his door and whisked him away to who knows where.

A muddled chain of events quickly spurred forth from tubby's arrival onward, and so suddenly that even she, a champion of these things, found it difficult to follow.

Though it was terribly out-of-character for Temari to find herself in such a mess, she soon caught herself marking off silly tasks that she would have never thought to have even imagined of accomplishing—cheesy goodbyes with Shikamaru, tracking down that Ino Yamanaka girl, chucking her a mouthful, checking back at her brothers' grave, then swearing vengeance upon her their killer, actually finding the man, finally carrying out the execution and then somehow bribe her lover's way out of war, all between cups and cups of confusion and uncertain tears and bloodied hands and dirty underwear.

This, she thought, must've been what it was to fall in love.

* * *

_Get the review count up to 100? (Or even over 102 and I'll be at my personal best!) C'mon, team, we can do it! I know we can! _

_I started this chapter from scratch on the 7__th__ of January, and it was actually pretty fun writing this chapter, first in a notebook, and then finishing the rest on my laptop. The reason for the late update is because of Skies of Arcadia: Legends. Blame that damn awesome game, as it pretty much confined me to my room for 5 days to complete it from start to finish. _

_Now, before you accuse me of cheap use of the Plot no Jutsu, Temari's part in this was intended to be shown like so from the very start. As you can see, she –actually- has a fairly important role in the story._

_Well, this is what I meant about a different approach to the chapter. It's in an entirely different POV, and is slightly sexed up if you squint. Uh, actually, I take that back. You don't really need to squint._

_Further ranting: I didn't want Temari to appear as a hopeless victim, but instead a different approach to feminism. I hope that came across... but probably didn't as this is the first time I tried full-blown ShikaTema. Or actual Shika/Anyone, really._


	17. Tomorrow

Tomorrow

Finding Ino was easy, like spotting a pregnant warthog trying to hide in the midst of white swans.

She was a rather fanciful girl, face still tender, eyes still wide. It was almost as if she went without a clue of the happenings in Shikamaru's life. That, or the girl was in some serious denial. She looked at Temari as if she had never even seen her in her life.

That was unfortunate.

But her motives and her message were clear. Temari had no time for taunts; time was not on her side any longer. Besides, she had promised that it would be a concise congregation, and that there would be no bloodshed, no hard feelings. Yes, Temari was an assassin, but above all she was a _lady_. A lady with honour, at that.

So she said what she had to say, and left just as swiftly to embark on her next mission.

She had no time to waste; she might have been on the run without even knowing it, yet.

* * *

Now finding the killer of her brothers spiked a significantly higher rise in difficulty, but it was nothing Temari couldn't handle.

Calling in a few witnesses then summoning the plethora of tricks Temari hid under her sleeve, she was soon lead to believe that it was in fact a militarist aristocrat that murdered her two brothers. Putting forth an even greater magnitude of manpower, Temari soon had her hands on the two bullets which had ended her siblings' lives. And from then on her tasks were as easy as pie.

She tracked them again, and only brought to confirm her previous theory: Hyuuga Hiashi was her brothers' killer.

Temari subsequently began to stalk him, obviously using traditionally subtle and feminine methods.

She was delighted to know that he was stationed just across from Ino's little abbey—it was quite a small world after all—and so immediately settled in the nearest town under the guise of the ever-popular elusive widow, spending her free time hijacking her way into Shikamaru's radio, idly chatting with her new neighbours, and gathering free meals from unsuspecting citizens.

She kept ever close to him, never losing her patience; it was never the time to strike. True, he may have been killed before she had even the slightest glimpse of his face, but she'd rather have her country's reputation in place. Temari may have been thirsty for blood, but she was a lady, and perhaps even more chiefly, a loyalist.

She was to do everything in her power as not to stain her country's reputation.

* * *

Meanwhile, as another chess piece was pitted unknowingly against him, Hyuuga Hiashi leisurely chatted away with his handsome nephew, talking about everything from politics to family and more. After a couple hours of conversation the night was getting late, and the time came around for Hiashi to send Neji off.

"Fits you like a glove," Hiashi chuckled, in reference to the watch Neji had wrapped around his wrist. "It was your father's, you know."

The words hit him hard. In fact, Neji was so taken aback that he nearly fell back into the shelf behind him, only catching himself after tripping a step backward.

"M-my father's?" he stuttered, brokenly. Neji put palm to forehead, sweat forming quick under his hairline. Yes, yes, it was all coming back to him.

This was his father's favourite watch—oh, how could he have forgotten.

In memories coiled around mountaintops worth of ice-cream-in-a-cone and chuckle-filled nostalgia, Neji recalled that in most—if not all—of their father-son outings together he had worn that damned watch. For as long as he could remember, Hizashi always had that thing around his wrist. No one knew when he first got the thing, nor how or why but...

Before he could even try to put some logic behind his sudden flashbacking, more images began to clog up his mind. Images filled with childish delight and innocent glee, a time back when the scariest things in the world were the monsters under his bed and making Hinata cry. Candy floss and carnivals, pony-rides and fishing trips...The sugary boyhood joy that of having his father first help him to work a kite, and hence first introducing to him the concept of flight... and then immense pain when his subconscious shot him the reflection of that same, kind, figure wrapped up in his best suit, face listless and "restful" in his coffin.

Neji thought his tears had already dried at his father's tomb. He clearly seemed to have been wrong; he had litres of surplus more. Maybe, maybe it was the fact that he had forgotten such a significant artefact that upset him rather than his father actually being dead, as Hizashi had been dead for quite a while now.

"You right, sonny?" Hiashi raised his voice in concern, a hand reaching out to touch him. Neji flinched back, his two eyes each pressed under a finger.

"All is well," Neji assured, stepping away from Hiashi. "I'm fine."

Hiashi frowned. "Is that so?"

"Yes." Neji turned, bordering at the entrance of the tent. He didn't want to be there, but then again, there wasn't exactly anywhere else he wanted to be. "I bid you goodnight, uncle."

Hiashi understood, and thought, _best leave the boy be for now. _From his experience, young men at Neji's age always needed that extra bit of time alone.

* * *

"Hey you," a voice called from the left. The half-yell most certainly succeeded in frightening the living daylights out of Neji, who all but jumped.

Tenten stood a dangerously close distance away from him, and god, he knew she could see the tears. "T-Tenten? What're you doing snooping around, here?"

Her mouth twisted into a pout and she inclined at an angle so she could she better his face, obscured by the shadows of the weeping willow bristling lightly above them. "Sir, you—"

"Yes," he throttled. He tucked back his lips and tried concealing his face, but in the end there was no use in hiding his apparent distress, weakness or no. "Even I am susceptible to sorrow. What of it?"

"Oh, lieutenant," Tenten cooed. All of a sudden she sounded _maternal. _She reached for her left back pocket and reached for a handkerchief. Smoothing out the edges she handed over the cloth to him. Forgetting the fact that he had no idea where the handkerchief had actually been, Neji happily put it to use. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"No. All is well." Neji sniffed, swallowed and handed back her gift. He was beginning to clear up. "And you should be asleep in your quarters."

"Geez, you don't have to _lie_ to me, boss. We're friends aren't we?" she laughed, the question a rhetorical one. Neji only hummed in response, seemingly preoccupied with returning her handkerchief. Tenten then pressed her palm against the back of Neji's hand and pushed it away. "Keep it."

"Much gratitude," Neji mumbled, folding the cloth into his chest pocket. "I'm sure it will come in handy later." He clinched the tip of his nose a final time, giving it one last rub.

Happening across a log nearby. Neji gladly sat upon it.

"I'm no Naruto, Neji," Tenten sighed, thumping down after him. She picked up a twig and began playing with it. "I can tell when something's up."

"And I'm no Shikamaru, but I can tell there's a reason you're here." Neji turned his focus back to her, having now completely cleaned himself up. "Why would my team, supposedly having so much fun without me come back to meet me at an hour like this?"

"Hey, don't change the subject!" she scolded. However, Neji held no reply. "...But I guess if it hurts that much I guess I shouldn't push you too much to talk about it.

"Still, where the heck _were _you the whole day? You just kind of disappeared and..."

Neji shrugged. "I should be asking the same of you."

"Fooling around with the boys. Can't believe those guys are _excited_ of all things to be."

"Mhm. I see. Why you've come for me, that is," said Neji. He nodded his head understandingly.

"W-w-what do you mean?"

"Tomorrow," he said. "It scares the living piss out of you, does it not?"

Tenten was silent.

"Well, it frightens me, too. More than you can ever know." A slight pause. "You are not alone, Tenten."

Then, breaking the sudden recess of words, Tenten laughed with her voice higher than the clouds. "Well, what do you know? You're actually pretty good at this girl talk stuff!"

"We'll see about that!" he scoffed. Her comment was enough for him to warrant a playful shove her way, which then in turn had Tenten blinking in surprise.

"Hey, hey! Where'd you pick that up?" she said, referring to the push.

Neji drew back, face was becoming hot. "What?"

Tenten stopped smiling. "Sorry. I've just never seen you so... friendly, before."

"Still learning," he muttered.

"You're doing a fine job." She smiled. He almost did, too. "You know, I feel a little better already, boss. I wouldn't want Lee to think..." she said, she trailing off, "and Fang just doesn't listen to this kind of stuff. So yeah."

There was something unexplainable about it, but a warm, fluffy feeling began to befall her, starting in little eddy undercurrents stirring at the base of her spine and slowly working their way up.

She decided putting off the application of Lee's theory until another day.

Neji was visibly _troubled _at that current point in time, So Tenten thought twice before deciding not to confront him about _that._

Neji looked back at her, now nervously thumbing his father's watch. "Glad to be of service to you."

"It's just really nice to know that somebody else out there feels the same."

"It is." Neji sighed, and stopped touching his timepiece.

Tenten yawned; it was time to be getting back. "Gotta get some shuteye," she dozed. "It's getting late."

Her male companion then to face her again, eyes suddenly fixed on her. And it was thrilling, frightening and mesmerising in every way possible—the sort of look Lee had given her when they had just begun to...

Neji stopped her train of thought. "Tomorrow, then," he said.

_Tomorrow_. It was a promise.

* * *

_**HAPPY AUSTRALIA DAY UPDATE! **_(It's one in the morning so I guess that counts)

_Guys. You got the review count to a lovely 104! That is freaking awesome! You people are loved forever. This is me at my current personal best (Disinherited had 102 in 22 chapters, but 7 times more hits. So it's a lovely review ratio I've got here)! It's also short, but that has an excuse, too: it was originally supposed to be much longer, but if it had some of the other content I wanted to put here then it would have been an extremely messy chapter in terms of time skip cuts. And we don't want that, do we?_

_In return **I can promise you an update in 2.5 days... and it's big... almost 6K. **I've actually gotten some good feedback for the previous chapter, and I'm utterly elated. Hopefully this one isn't too disappointing as it again acts as a bridge. I admittedly do see a considerable drop in quality, but again, it had to be do_n_e. _


	18. To Arms!

TO ARMS!

And tomorrow it was.

At the latest, it was five-hundred hours in the morning when they were called to arms, an ungodly yet strangely appropriate time.

Tenten, although slightly cheered from the previous night's pleasantries, still clasped her rifle with fear. Sweat dripped wet and gathered at her palms. She found it difficult to resist applying the pressure to her lip.

Lee stood tall beside her, the fresh face of their country's gallantry. When questioned with how the heck he kept so calm under the circumstances, he simply replied that with a smile. And _he_ was shaking like a leaf just a week ago! Tenten admired his resolve.

Their lieutenant, however comforting he may've been the last night, was not helping any either. Neji looked careful, and worst of all, unconfident. His eyes were intent on the smoke arising from the far side of the battlefield and his jaw bolted to an oblique angle. It only did well to heighten his unconvinced outlook of despair. At any other time they would have labelled him a drama queen and ignored him, but today was the moment of truth. Neji was their best bet. And once the leader of the pack came with such doubt, it was extremely tricky job on the soldiers' part to remain optimistic.

Even the loudest of the loud was a little soft-spoken that morning, and the snarkiest completely at their wit's end. Naruto's usual boisterous behaviour had died down to a couple of songs that attempted to amplify the team's spirits—but alas, do the job it did not. And Sasuke, who was usually scolding and chiding the poor kid, remained entirely silent.

Shikamaru spoke not a single "troublesome," and Chouji's whines made a sudden disappearance. Asuma stopped smiling.

Fang too, quieted, and Akamaru began to audibly whimper under his coat.

The only exception to the phenomenon was Shino, although his brows did seem to crunch up stronger under his shades.

* * *

Sure, Hiashi had cleared a slightly easier path for his nephew—especially with whopping days of rest he had allowed him—but Neji couldn't help but feel extreme distain with the situation at hand. His crew was a diligent group when it came to it, but inexperienced at most. Though they had been in war's company for a good time now, they were still painfully untried with various forms of horrors still unseen to their eyes.

The night before he had gotten word from Hiashi that, at least on the relatively small-scale battlefield they were fighting at, both sides of the conflict had been drawn to an inexplicable stalemate. It was mainly due to a loss of resources with all the confusion nearby and no time to recoup. Neji had seen all the reinforcements that had been called, but the fact was tanks were uncommon, and so all they had to do was wait until there could be enough firepower to launch a full-frontal attack. So in reality, the circumstances of their condition were not as bleak as they had first hoped; it was merely a race for reinforcements, and nothing more.

That said, it was still a feat much easier said than done.

Neji had to admit, though, for the first two days in their side-trench they had it relatively easy. The chores administered to them were not unlike the infirmary they had been at previously and their morale had not yet been hammered to the depressive trough that Neji had expected; some of them were even _cheerful _about it.

* * *

On the second night at an incredulously late hour, Neji held a small flashlight toward his pack, still filled with the paper, the pistol and the rest of it. Half the men, plus the dog, were asleep, and it was a relatively, ironically peaceful time.

His eyes and fingers wandered in the nearly boring atmosphere, to first settle on his watch, and then to the left, where Shikamaru had his head against the wall of the trench, staring vacantly at the night sky above. He was carefully—no doubt all hell would break loose had he produced too much smoke—sucking away the box of cigarettes Neji had given him, sharing the pack with the older Asuma. Neji himself had no purpose for it, so might have as well just given it to those who did.

Afterwards his watch meandered to his right, and upon seeing nothing of interest there, jumped across to meet the eyes of the only woman in a five hundred metre radius. Her green-loving companion was fast asleep, head perched askew on her shoulder.

And despite appearing noticeably shaken, she tried smiling anyway. He didn't.

She didn't quite care for the cold gesture, though. Tenten knew him well enough to understand that Neji was beyond just nervous. He had really showed the turbulent side of him that morning when she, out of insatiable curiosity, peered over the parapet to which he snapped at her. And she had received a bit of a shock from it when he did, because as mordant and bitter he might've been, Neji never _snapped._ At least not with such a sense of urgency, at least not to _her._

Yet, she couldn't find herself staying angry with him for it; she was just as scared as he was, and it would not have been fair to hold such a little thing against him.

"Neji, s-sir?" she whispered shakily (it was unknown if it was the freezing slush gathering at her boots that caused this or her innate fear), disregarding his unfriendly composure. "How long do you think we'll last out here?

His reply was decidedly ambiguous. "No one can say," he huffed, presenting her with a pen and paper, "As long as we can hold out for."

Tenten batted an eyelid in pleasant surprise. Her lungs, her chest, burned as she looked at him, though she was unsure for what particular reason (the excitement of finally being able to write home, or something else entirely?)

Up until then she regarded all he had said that Christmas night as a few rubbish comments made while he was plain drunk-in-denial. But now that she pieced the existing evidence together with Lee's new discovery and the way he was looking at her now, Tenten began to suspect that the man was in fact _sober_ in the duration of their conversation. With that she supposed that he had begun regarding her in a level that was not the standard fondness a senior had for his soldier.

No, something else entirely.

Not that Tenten should've been thinking about things like that at that time! She coughed off the thought. "For me?"

Neji nodded, incidentally grave. "Write to your heart's content while you still have the chance."

Tenten frowned. "Thanks."

"Think of it as an apology for my rude behaviour earlier today."

Her eyes softened in response.

* * *

Elsewhere, not far from where the other group was, a certain fair-haired, blue-eyed soldier who had volunteered for the job of sentry neared to finishing his two-hour duty as a lookout. While he idyllically stared up at the stars, a good mate of his was quickly approaching to pull his own weight.

As he still hummed a song, unaware that someone was fast looming, Naruto his mind began to drift with thoughts of Sakura.

And, he wondered, was she thinking of him, too?

* * *

Sakura still hadn't figured out for herself why she was still lingering there, aimless and broken. But Ino had for her, several times in fact. In their high-low fluctuating friendship, Ino did the only thing a somewhat desperate friend could do.

"To keep me company," Ino would say. She'd then reach out for Sakura with her fingers, calloused and blistery from the pricks of thorns, and entwine them within Sakura's pretty pink hair. The act was always... possessive and Sakura had to bend her head back a bit to keep from crying. "You're not leaving me."

And then Sakura would let her keep them there for no good reason.

Everything she did hadn't a reason anymore; it was a question that had plagued her for months on end.

Her being there—she recited, over and over again—there was not a point.

When she was younger things had been easier. She would fight and fret and struggle, but in the end she always did as she was told. It was simple then. It was just the three of them, the inseparable trio.

As children, it was always Naruto, Sasuke and her.

Now, Naruto never changed; his endless wealth of optimism, idiocy and trademark goof had never left, and still remained as contagious as the day he moved a whole party of mourners into tears of guilty laughter. Naruto was nothing like Sasuke, who had once been a role model for every kid in their hometown. He was a solemn boy, a sharp boy. And he'd always been shy, not outgoing, not quite as charismatic as young Naruto, but one day during one of their regular meetings outside the beauty parlour Sasuke was just plain _different._

His cheeks had been streaked with tears, nose trickling with snot, and neither Naruto nor Sakura knew what to do.

Young Naruto, being the good sport he was—and still is—had put a hand on Sasuke's shoulder and moved to wipe Sasuke's tears away with the back of his hand.

"Oh no!" his tender little voice cried. The infantile boy, in his naive little mind, had believed that Sasuke was perhaps jealous of the ultra-rare card that Naruto had been so lucky to receive in his packet of chips during their trip to the grocer's the day before. But why cry over a stupid piece of plastic, Naruto thought. So he reached into his left pocket and materialised in his hand a golden, glittery collectible. On it was printed an image of his number-one-idol "the Yellow Flash", fully clad in his battle armour.

Though he was hesitant to part with it, Naruto still, albeit hesitantly, took out his little hands, tucked his chin back, and traded the card for Sasuke's happiness. "No crying anymore, okay?"

Sakura only watched on with confusion. "Whatevwer's th'madder Sasuke?" she managed.

He only bawled louder, though Sakura blamed this on her two front teeth. They had been plucked out recently and were still swollen, so it was difficult to speak in her normal ladylike manner. Maybe that was why she was not able to communicate in the same persuasive and eloquent manner as usual, and unable to convince Sasuke to stop wailing around like a baby.

It took a good hour, but after convincing Sasuke to calm himself down and keep Naruto's damn card they sat him down on the bench down the road and Sakura left to buy him some iced cola. Naruto shamefully had no money to do so, so Sakura kept him by Sasuke's side, as Naruto had also met a higher rate of success in his attempts to pacify their best friend.

When she returned, Naruto had stilled Sasuke to a sniffle and some hiccups in the aftermath of his still unexplained woes.

She then offered him the beverage, and for the first time in a long while Sakura had seen him so timid, Sasuke was ginger about it. Sakura then climbed upon the bench, dangling her short legs back and forth—in tune with Naruto's—with Sasuke at a standstill between them.

And with their initial experience with such a situation at hand, the two found that keeping a respectful quiet around Sasuke was probably the best thing to do, until Naruto got bored of doing just that, made a face, and forced Sasuke into a fit of giggles. That soon evolved into a full-fledged chortle, and Sasuke had never been so embarrassed to find fluid exiting his nose. Subsequently Sakura thought it funny, and she too filled the atmosphere with mirth. Naruto followed, a hand over his belly, and it was then that Sasuke finally began to lighten up.

In celebration of Sasuke's exorcised melancholy, Sakura pressed a cheek fast against the previously glum young lad. Naruto didn't want to feel left out so he joined in, too, and, suddenly encouraged by his friends' kindness, Sasuke crept a hand around both of their shoulders in a terribly shy fashion.

And it was one of the many far and few instances the future "rivals" shared that Sakura could remember where they got along well and without blows. Sakura had watched the two boys grow right before her eyes, and in the years that followed the duo all too often broke out into hour-long bickers and intense staring contests.

Even if Sasuke told them nothing of what happened that day, talk was quick to spread around town, like wildfire. It didn't take long for Sakura to find out what was eating up Sasuke. A conversation with her mummy on the subject matter had taken place right that evening and cleared things up neatly.

"Sakura, honey?" her mother called.

"Yes, mummy?" the little girl cried with excitement. Excitement for what though, she was unsure.

Her mother drew near and enclosed her daughter's small hands inside her long, slender ones.

"You be extra nice to that Uchiha boy, you understand?" she lectured, hands bouncing with every second word.

"Y-you mwean Sasuke?" Sakura cocked her head. "Sasuke was weally sad t'day. Mama, what happened? Did somebwody bully him?" Sakura shook her miniscule fist. "_Ooooh, _they're gonna get it!"

Her mother's eyes strayed. "That's not it, darling... His mummy and daddy are gone now, and his brother, too." Sakura's mummy looked away, hand over her mouth, and muttered something about what a good boy he had been. "There was a terrible accident," she explained, looking into her daughter's eyes, "So do a favour for mummy, okay, Sakura? Look after Sasuke for mummy."

Sakura nodded determinedly, head bobbing in agreement. Her mother smiled.

"Does this mweam Sasuke's going?"

"No, Sakura. Sasuke's mother and father have lots and lots of brothers and sisters. They'll look after him."

Then, the very next day Sakura's mother handed her a lollipop first thing in the morning and instructed her to give it to Sasuke. As soon as she had found him, peering into a flower shop, Sakura did as she was told.

"Boo!" she squealed. Sasuke jumped back in surprise, though Sakura thought nothing of it as she pushed the sweet into his hands. She was met with no reply, and she theorised for a second that he had become mute.

"Geez, that's no way to treat a lady!" an unfamiliar girl retorted from inside.

Sasuke turned to come face to face with a fresh-faced platinum blonde—no older than he and Sakura were—and in panic, back to Sakura, to who he bowed his head to. Finally, he accepted her gift and then stepped forward to place an awkward peck on Sakura's cheek.

The girl who had been standing by them clapped her hands in delight. "Oh la la! Someone's got a boyfriend!"

"She's not my girlfriend!" The boy then tried to hide his big eyes, overwhelmingly embarrassed. "I-Itachi said to always kiss people when you wanted to thank them," he'd said before swiftly running away.

Sakura's face was burning, and she only recovered from her haze when the new girl snapped her fingers before her eyes. The girl then boisterously introduced herself.

Her name was Yamanaka Ino. She was no older than Sakura, and dreamed of one day becoming the prettiest girl in the world. Sakura simply thought, that's nice, and in her childish immaturity agreed to become her friend because of it.

It was after Sakura met Ino that she began to spend only half the time playing about in the mud with Naruto and Sasuke as she did before, and increasingly more time with Ino in more talkative methods of bonding. Ino was crowned Sakura's newest bestest best friend, and Naruto and Sasuke were somewhat neglected by their estranged friend.

But ever since Sasuke approached her as a young child, Sakura's completely naive and undeveloped views on love at the time caused the girl to develop a noxious obsession with him, refusing at her young age that it was anything _other _than that. Sakura alone wasn't the only one to nurse that ceaseless infatuation, either. The whole town joked that they could one day make a lovely husband and wife, and heck; even Ino fuelled her non-existent relationship with plenty of compliments and suggestion.

What had been a crush had extended to an unconditional, blind form of it. Although Sasuke had clearly shown in later years to have no interest in her whatsoever, Sakura still continued to insist on loving him. Although Sasuke was frigid beyond compare and completely unable to reach out to even similar interests as Sakura, she still persisted. Although Naruto clearly showed utmost affection for her, Sakura chose to disregard his feelings completely, her excuse being that she was completely fixated on Sasuke.

There was definitely respect he had held for her as a long-term friend, but strictly not anything more. He had taken to ignoring or avoiding her rather than being confrontational about it, so Sakura took his indifference as an invitation to do whatever she liked—which meant withstanding her overindulgent advances—and insisted on showering him with adoration, even if she had no _reason _to do so. Not until that incident.

On a fine, day with the orange sky stretched above him, a little while before the war began, Sakura found her "reason" to love him.

She had again dolled herself up again and made a trip to his house when the maddened horses approached. She had seen Sasuke all smart in his page cap and cloak, and—without even taking a glance at the road—ran on after for him. It was a stupid thing to do, of course, because as the wagon approached them at a maddening speed, Sasuke had no choice but to scoop her up in one arm and push her to the far right.

In the tumble that followed, Sakura's dress was ruined in the puddle of mud in which they dropped, and for that matter, so was Sasuke's left arm and the skin of his back.

Visiting him in the hospital every day after that had become her own declaration of loyalty. Once Sasuke had saved her from what could've very well been her death, Sakura was ever the more resolute on chasing him.

Her prolonged limerence then stepped up a new level—along with the innocence of simply having viewed him in that particular way for as long as she could remember, and following it regardless of everything that was changing around her.

When she had heard he was leaving with Naruto, she told him she loved him. She had finally blurted it out, but Sasuke had no reply. She hadn't admitted it then, but no three words had ever sounded so empty before. Yes, he had been the reason she had joined servicing as a nurse, though Ino had quite a part to play in swaying her to come along, too.

She would always ramble on about how _romantic_ such a dynamic would be, and for a while the dizzy-headed Sakura simply had to agree. Inside, she knew obligation had quite a lot to do with it, too. Obligation that perhaps one day she would be able to find Sasuke and save his life as he did hers, and obligation that kept reminding Sakura what great importance it was to her to keep by Ino's side.

Yes, Sasuke had been the reason. But he just wasn't enough anymore. He had become a worn paper prince, one never to return her shallow and—convincingly—contrived feelings. She still _worried _about him dearly of course, but her previous "passion" had all been self-eradicated after hours and hours of midnights spent in the company of a melting wax and waning candlelight.

Then again, with all the time spent wistfully by the glow's side, Sakura had also learned something else in the time that she spent there, hard at work.

She learnt that this love of hers was not the true love that she thought it to be, but instead was instilled in such feats as holding on to every bit of life you had left. Even if it kept only a glimmer of hope alive that you one day might see your wife again. Sakura learnt that it was pain and suffering, that it wasn't how many kisses you deluged upon each other or roses you lavished their room with, but the deepest and most knowing understanding of the other that mattered—even if this ultimate wisdom lasted less than the tiniest decimal in the universe, _that _was perhaps the truest meaning of love Sakura had come up with. So far.

And, most importantly of all, Sakura had learnt something about herself.

She realised that as she put a hand to the forehead of a dying soldier, Sakura could say she had loved many of the men and women there at that abbey for a few moments more than she did Sasuke her whole life.

Now, that was a reason that would suffice to explain her staying, because Sakura could not bear to sit by and simply watch them die. Because she loved them and she wanted to, if not save them, make their many deaths as peaceful and easy as possible. So she would stay.

Then, heaving a great sigh and arising from her stool, Sakura halted her thoughts on the matter. Her mind was dank and dark enough. But she had found her resolution now, so the room's shadows loomed on her a little lighter than before.

Untying her apron and looking out the window, Sakura cogitated where they were now in the battlefield.

As she knew Naruto was out there somewhere due to his little visit a day or two earlier, Sasuke must've been close, too.

* * *

"Hey Fishcake," Sasuke began as he poked the half asleep Naruto while shuffling closer to him, "this may be our last conversation so listen up."

A pale, shy hand went and slipped through a strong, tan one. "I'm..."

Naruto did not flinch nor retreat, and although Sasuke did not finish his sentence Naruto had already a good grip on what he was about to say.

"Hmphf! I knew you were a scaredy-cat all along," Naruto puffed haughtily, "But hey," he continued, making a sound of reassurance as he tightened his grip around Sasuke's fingers, "This is nothing. Be a man, man. We're the unbeatable two; _I'm _the only one qualified here to kick your ass."

Sasuke still kept quiet, uncertain. Naruto pressed on, "Look, you bastard. I'd rather lose my limbs than let you come to harm."

"You-" Sasuke breathed, making the fatal mistake of edging his eyes away from the wet ground and up above his nose. Whatever he had planned to follow up in that sentence was stopped when Sasuke's better inquisition—and arguably Naruto's two, round, Prussian irises—took a strange hold of him, and saw himself swinging forward. In a way that was slow, but quick enough so that Naruto would not be able to escape him when Sasuke came crashing upon Naruto's mouth.

It was uncharacteristically clumsy on kiss on Sasuke's part. Maybe he was distracted by the fact that Naruto tasted of chicken soup and noodles. Both their lips were chapped and ragged, as neither man had drunken anything adequate in days. But Sasuke didn't care; he had waited far too long for this.

Alas, Naruto did not feel comfortable in that particular time and place. It had taken him a while to realise that his best friend had intentions there that were anything but the brotherly ones of his own. The weirdness of the moment didn't stem so much from the fact that he was making out with another male, but more from the fact that his _goddamn best friend _was kissing him, and even worse, had harboured untold feelings toward him that were unreciprocated for all that time.

...Friend or no, Sasuke was the last person on earth he wanted to share his first kiss with. With a swift, involuntary flex, Naruto punched the other soldier right across the jaw.

"In the name of... _What the hell_ do you think you're doing?" shrieked Naruto. Flabbergasted, he was furiously rubbing his teeth against his sleeve. It was bad enough that the sap was only big enough to fit, say, one and a half people, but now that Sasuke was here and making _friggin'_ moves at him...

Sasuke stared at him plainly. Perhaps it was out of pride he didn't dare touch the tender flesh throbbing on the right. "Kissing you."

"S-Sasuke you... Gah!" He spat. He was torn between just strangling him and just. Dying. "That was my...First... Y-You—Oh, forget it!"

Sasuke stared on, eyes half lidded and livid all the same. Unlike his exterior, however, Sasuke's poor ego was took quite the blow. So this is what girls felt like whenever he rejected them? "Tsk! That fucking hurts."

"Hey, I'm _sorry_, you raging queen," he said, half-serious and half-joking all at the same time. "That was really out of line, but you were too! You don't go down people's throats without their permission," he said, still trying to convince his confused brain to deny whatever had just happened. "Besides, I'm in love with Sakura! And she's head over heels for _you_, Sasuke!"

"I know that, you _dumbass_. But why do you think I've turned her away all this time?" Naruto blinked. Sasuke rolled his eyes and mounted his rifle over his shoulder.

"I think..." Naruto's eyes narrowed. "You need to get laid. And just between us, what just happened did not just happen. I _knew _you were acting really weird that other day but I never..."

Sasuke looked away, and quietly, Sasuke ascended to his post.

Naruto's eyelids flickered and he guessed that the only thing to do was leave. But he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to sleep. Despite his extravagant optimist's outlook on life and inability to give up, Naruto was _scared, _too. And even though yes, he did feel uncomfortable in the presence of his best friend who had _just kissed him_, Naruto was a grown boy and wanted to spend as much time with the poor guy as possible. There were other ways to deal with _that_ later.

"I'm not going to die, Sasuke," he declared, hand soft on Sasuke's shoulder. "You're not either. I'll _kill _you if you die on me." Not a sound. Naruto tightened his grip. "The old pervert's not ready for us yet. Imagine his disappointment when he hears that we died virgins!"

Sasuke made the slightest flinch at Naruto's comment. The fact that he had mentioned Kakashi for the first time in so long rubbed salt in the wound, and as for his other statement, well—

The blue-eyed boy made a flinch, hoping it was a response towards the former comment. "Naruto..."

To avoid further hole-digging, Naruto changed their goal. "And think of Sakura! We can't—"

Naruto was cut off by a sharp exhale from Sasuke, whose head seemed to move awfully close to Naruto's hand, cheek on fingers. Naruto, who had finally decided to leave Sasuke alone for the meanwhile, retracted his hand and headed back to his lieutenant.

* * *

Again, at five hundred hours the next morning the troops were abruptly awoken to "stand to!"

It was the last day they'd have to spend in those rotten trenches. Shikamaru, seated snugly by his radio had announced to the whole trench division that the tank reinforcements would arrive the next week at the latest. Ever since he made the comment, however, everyone didn't quite work off their own weight as well as they used to.

Everyone seemed to become sluggish as soon as they heard the news, their mistake as they exposed the worst of their weaknesses. It was so loud that day that Neji for once had to raise his voice over the explosions all around. The enemy pounded on them harder than usual, much more aggressive than they had been the past couple of days. Luckily, the day before they had all done a great job polishing the cannons, preparing their bayonets and all the rest of it.

"Brace yourselves, boys!" Asuma said as they soldiered through their first barrage of enemy artillery. Thank god nobody was hurt. "You best be putting your helmets on!"

Tenten's arm, around Lee's back, pushed down as another explosion flashed by. "Lee, you 'kay?"

Lee pushed up his helmet before curling his own hand around her shoulders, and using the other to make a thumbs-up.

"Just keep shooting at the bastards!" said Fang. Akamaru was quaking at his feet.

"Yeah!" Naruto agreed. He even tossed a grenade over (a useless waste) in, just for some added flair. Not surprisingly, Neji was quick to scold him for it. Shikamaru followed with a roll of his eyes, and Sasuke simply groaned to express his disapproval. Shino grunted, and Chouji all but pissed his pants.

But no matter how hard they assaulted the enemy, the onslaught of bombs did not stop.

It was going to be a long day ahead.

* * *

At twelve hundred hours, Uzumaki Naruto fell.

Sasuke had been an exact eight metres away from him, then, though desperation of the time taken to reach him made it seem so much longer than that. The shell had appeared out of nowhere, landing much too close to them for Sasuke's liking. He called out Naruto's name twice to be sure, but no reply came from him. At the time Sasuke was too busy shooting at the enemy to be able to run a thorough check on his dear friend.

To the ensanguined, sunny hair, red _everything_, twitching fingers and raw look of pain, Naruto was in all ways the sorest sight for Sasuke's bloodshot eyes. The images never left him, always haunting.

Without leaving room for any thought, Sasuke only had one goal—to get him to safety.

Bombs chased them up and down. The earth burned beneath them. It was ridiculous trying to stay alive, just plain ridiculous. But Sasuke ran. He ran for Naruto's life—because he was the only one who was left that still believed in him.

"Naruto, I don't have the _time_ for another one your inane pranks!" Sasuke yelled. _"_Get _up_!"

"I... I won't die," Naruto hoarsely replied, coughing up something wet, "You better believe it."

Sasuke could only imagine all too well Naruto's smile—Sasuke couldn't look now, but he knew it was there.

"_Don't you fucking talk!_" Sasuke screamed in response, adrenaline riding fiercely through his heated vessels.

He himself had nothing but Naruto to live for, anyway. His entire family was dead, and he had not anything to return to. No money, no home. Just Naruto.

He was best described as a blond bombshell that walked into his life at a time when friendship was limited to the extent of sharing mud-pies and sloppy, wet kisses only oblivious preschoolers could appreciate. And then, after the hormones had settled well and truly into Sasuke's troubled psyche, there was no going back. Without a question, Sasuke would follow him anywhere. _Anywhere_, though obviously he wasn't ever going to let the cretin realise just how colossal the complete scope of his hopeless affection was.

Naruto had been more than good to him, and it was time that Sasuke made up for it.

It was the trickiest run of his life, being under heavy fire and having had to loop over all the corpses. The fact that he had managed to dodge all the snipers was a miracle in itself. The population of many trenches he encountered were entirely devastated, rarely there being a spot of mercy. There was this one sight of a live man so terrible; Sasuke spared him one of his bullets to shoot the poor soldier in the head.

As he neared the abbey Sasuke quickly began praying under his breath. He did it subconsciously, and didn't realise it until he mentally heard himself pleading with whatever deity they served in heaven. He couldn't quite believe he'd sunken so low as to _beg_, and an expression of distaste rifted his mouth.

The reverent building was eventually no more than metres away from him, and by then the speed of Sasuke's legs had grown into a hopeful sprint rather than a tired jog. Apart from for a few smudges of smoke and a damaged spire, the structure of the abbey had been left completely untouched.

Lucky, Sasuke thought.

Girls fluttered about to notify themselves of Sasuke's arrival and before long, at the entrance was a girl both the men knew rather well. She was standing there with her arms outstretched, however confused with whom to approach. Her hands were painted with a rich red, and her jaded green irises vacantly stared, calcified, and right through them.

"Oh, Sasuke, I..." she breathed, her torso bending forward. She put her hand to her mouth as she approached. Sasuke carried Naruto a little ahead on his back.

The boy was barely recognisable with half his face burnt back and characteristic yellow hair painted in thick, expressive strokes of blood. Sasuke seemed on the verge of hitting her. What was she doing just _standing _there? What gave her the right to freeze and do nothing, consuming the small amount of time paramount to Naruto's survival?

"Well, Sakura?" he yelled expectantly. She did not answer him. This was not the time, this was not the _fucking time_ for a leisurely reunion.

Sakura only wished that she could fall on her knees, put a hand to Naruto's cheek, and beat Sasuke to half-death for letting something like that happen to her dear friend. But for the sake of retaining her insanity, Sakura made an attempt to keep her cool.

"What have you done?" she said. Her mouth was shaping to release an inaudible cry.

Sasuke growled. "Don't ask me questions, just do something! Sakura!" Sakura's mouth quickly shut, and she took Naruto from under his arms.

"Careful," Sasuke snapped, handing him over, "be gentle!"

"Enough!" she screeched. Sakura fixed him a glare with her eyes glazed with tears. After that he was silent, only able to speak again after she left him in an awful hurry, and returned with the same speed it took to deliver Naruto.

"What are you still doing here? You should be up there with him," said Sasuke as she reappeared by his side.

"I couldn't bear looking at him, Sasuke." She looked away. "You wouldn't do it either."

Sasuke abruptly took her by the shoulders and shook her violently. "This is no time to be selfish! Don't you understand that the moron loves you like nothing else in this world?"

Sakura tore away. "But I..."

Sasuke shut his hands over his ears; he didn't want to hear the end of that sentence.

* * *

_A... lot of stuff happened there. I don't know what got into me... Now I've got about another extra chapter and... wow. I FINALLY have the NaruSasuSaku backstory down! Now for Ino and Hinata... This chapter was written in at least six different pieces all at alternating periods of time (months, days and weeks apart.) Yeah, these side-characters are starting to develop lives of their own and I'm having fun with it! _

_Things get darker and edgier from here, and there'll be a more of a focus on romantic relationships. I'm sure this chapter'll be pretty controversial, anyway._

_For some reason, I am usually more pleased with handwritten results than typed chapters._


	19. Defier of Stars

_Defier of Stars_

It was Tsunade who eventually ushered Uchiha Sasuke out. He knocked over about ten chairs and two beds, broke several pieces of equipment and managed to seriously upset a very vulnerable Sakura before the big-bosomed woman had to step in and perform one of her military manoeuvres from times long since past. Easily, Sasuke rejoined the group who were still as he left them.

Sakura had been rather disappointed with how Sasuke had to leave so soon, but was perhaps even more upset with Naruto's admission. He was a particularly traumatising sight, and no matter how many times she tried she could not bring herself to see him. Throughout the rest of the day, she avoided Naruto's ward and carried on with other work. Sakura had eventually lost herself in hundreds of stitches, kilometres of bandages and had luckily succeeded in pushing him to the background in the meanwhile. And so, it was poor Hinata who stepped up and kept Naruto company.

* * *

Only after a number of uneasy steps was Hinata finally able to seat herself gingerly on the edge of the bed and took the liberty of smoothing back his hair.

How her heart raced! To be this close to him was to hope. He was hope. But oh, how quickly he faded.

Naruto's torso had been burnt back by a half, so she did her best to avoid the tender skin on the left side while running a wet cloth over the right. Her hands were trembling; she couldn't believe she'd ever be able to handle him like this, and definitely not in that horrifying state.

"Naruto," she murmured under her breath. "Can you hear me?" He remained still as a rock with no muscle granting her a drop of pity, and tears amassed in her great grey eyes. But she refused them passage; Hinata refused to cry like a damned child. "W-what happened to you?"

There was still no response from the unconscious soldier, and Hinata quietened.

She was ridiculous to ever think that Naruto was anything other than okay, though. This was Uzumaki Naruto she was dealing with—master of the impossible and defier of stars. A man so full of tenacity that as long as he set himself to a task, he could do _anything._ As long as he _wanted _to survive, Naruto could not die.

For many a year had Hinata watched over him from the sidelines, as an inspiration and an object of her purest affections. Even now, with Neji and all the others by her side, Hinata simply wouldn't know what she would do if Naruto had left.

"Naruto?" she said again. "You'll be home soon. As long as you wake up you can have all the ramen you want. Please, Naruto. Don't go."

She could still remember the first time she saw him in the distance with his two closest companions at his side. She had longed to be close to him then—the underdog who proved everyone wrong—and it was no different now. Even though it was the closest they had physically been, Naruto he—

—Oh. He wouldn't have wanted her to cry.

Hinata retired the product of her grief with her sleeve. If he had been awake there was no doubt that he would do everything in his power to stop the waterworks, even if that meant jumping right out of his bed and heading out to cure her, with complete disregard for his condition. And he could regain consciousness any second now, so Hinata did her best to stay as calm as possible in Naruto's presence.

She stayed for hours on end, never leaving his side. Although the matron had ordered her out, Hinata did not budge. All the staff commiserated her to a degree that no one would escalate the matter into Tsunade's hands, and let the girl be after a certain amount of coaxing.

That very night Hinata sailed away into a dreamless sleep over Naruto's legs, and stayed with him till the sun rose the next morning. It was after she checked to see his was breathing that the first thought of leaving crept into her mind. Coincidently, it happened the moment Naruto moved his lips to speak.

"Sakura?"

Hinata thought carefully about what she was to say next. She was on one hand overjoyed that Naruto had regained some form of consciousness, but somewhat hurt on the other, as he had failed to recognise her. Of course, that was to be expected. How was he to know who she was unless he opened his eyes and took a good look at her?

"Yes," she said. "I-I-It's m-me... Sa-Sakura."

Blabbering fool! Even after such a long time away from each other, she still could not control her relentless stutters and violent blushes.

"You're not Sakura," he said. Sakura would bash his head in the moment she knew he was conscious. Additionally this girl spoke with politeness Sakura had none of. His lids opened with supreme idleness, but it was a spectacle well worth the wait. His eyes were soft like cornflower petals and seemed to sparkle on their own accord, even against the scalded flesh of his skin. It was with delighted surprise that Naruto awoke to see a diminutive Hinata peeking at him shyly behind her fringe.

"Hinata!" he laughed. Naruto almost sat up and hugged her before he realised that even the smallest movement caused him extreme pain. His face was wrecked with such pain for a moment that it was almost contagious for Hinata, who was frozen in place due to a combination of reticence and shock. "Sorry I can't reach you; it hurts too much," he gasped. It was difficult to speak with an oncoming rush of stinging discomfort.

"You shouldn't move so much!" Her gaze almost missed the weary soldier's fingers twitch, aching for her touch.

"C'mon, don't be shy." Naruto's hand stretched out a little further, and finally Hinata took the hint. At first, she was diffident in clasping his hand tight in her own, and simultaneously choked back a whimper when she coiled her fingers around his. With a cautious movement she prepared to uncurl Naruto's sheets, but Naruto was quick to grab her wrist. "N-no! It's bad, Hinata."

His hand was calloused and clammy. Hinata all but twitched.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's going to be alright," she proclaimed indubitably. The touch of his hand had regained Hinata's confidence. Naruto flashed one of his killer grins.

"Believe it!" he agreed. Hinata truly did, though she couldn't help but notice the subtle insinuation of sorrow in his eyes. She knew that he needed Sakura there, but for once in his life Naruto was not playing the oblivious ingénue. For once he was counting Hinata's feelings in the equation.

* * *

From then on Naruto spoke of nothing but the epics of war. It was a highly stylised and idyllic version of Naruto's, which was fabricated in order to keep the gullible Hinata out of the realm of vexation. Real combat was obviously nothing like the (amazingly) credible picture he had painted, however. In Naruto's tall tale, they threw daily parties in the trenches, bullets moved so slow for Naruto they were easy to dodge, everyone got on _so _well with each other, all deaths were honoured, and never, ever forgotten.

Strangely, the effect of his stories wore off on Hinata. There were plenty of inconsistencies and conflicting character traits within his story. Her face was at first trusting, but soon twisted into a doubtful smile she hid beneath her nervous chuckles.

Nevertheless he kept filling her head with all kinds of false information, and eventually became so sleepy he had to drift off for a nap. His cheeks were flushing, and in all honesty he didn't feel too good. The outside had grown dark, but it hadn't been for long. Just before he closed his eyes, he casually asked Hinata where his Sakura was.

The question broke her big delicate heart. He had been good all day. She knew sooner or later he had to ask about _her_. She softly answered him by telling him she loved him too much to see him in such pain. Naruto called Sakura a bitch, and Hinata asked him not to talk like that. Then that Naruto gave up trying to ask anymore and nodded off to sleep after saying his good night's wishes to Hinata.

Hinata heaved a heavy sigh after Naruto fell unconscious. It was probably time for her to change his dressing, having been refused the honour to do so in the morning. So this time she peeled back Naruto's blanket and started to unwrap his bandages with excruciating care. Her hands still quivered, and her heart never failed to keep up with its newly accelerated beat. She snuck a kiss on his forehead before she undid the last layer of bindings and witnessed the effect of the throes of war.

She felt vomit rush up her throat once she saw the wound on his abdomen, too terrible to describe. And the smell was so pungent; it was too putrid to put into words. She quickly wound up the new dressings and pushed up the duvet. She scrambled then to the corner of the room, in a convulsed spasm of hyperventilation.

It was impossible; the mighty Uzumaki Naruto was superman. He could do anything; he was _invincible_. Wasn't he?

* * *

_**HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEARS, EVERYBODY! **I couldn't resist putting up another chapter. I'm sorry guys that it's really short, though. Note: I will be once again taking my time with the next few chapters._


	20. Blossom of Snow

_Blossom of Snow_

Ino had not caught a wink of her best friend as of yet that morning. In fact, Ino rarely saw Sakura after that Naruto had been admitted just a few days ago. The unresolved issue was the only thing on her mind when there was even a blissful chink in the workload once lunch arrived, something the staff had not seen for much too long.

One particularly bloody midday a couple of days before had brought a flood of patients to death's door, and so the girls kept up into the wee hours of the night to ensure that these men had the best chance possible to return home. Some missions were a success, and others ended in utter failure. But the common factor in undertaking either task was that the team would function as just that, pumping life into the wounded with five-hundred percent.

So it wasn't surprising that Ino had been drained to the bone, and had absolutely no incentive to go search for Sakura once her much-awaited twenty-minute leave was granted.

* * *

The first thing that came to mind was food.

Ino feel an odd itch upon entering the matron's pantry; she clenched her apron after she ransacked each cupboard to find nothing but dust filling up the empty shelves. The mess hall was vacant, too, and not a crumb of bread could be found on any of the tables.

"Damn!" she muttered.

Ino yanked her head to the left upon hearing a loud scuffle, thinking it might be Sakura (...or a rather large rat), but instead had the light catch her eye.

Huh. She hadn't taken a good look outside for many a day now, so making sure that her eyes weren't deceiving her, Ino took off outside to inspect the curious patch of flora upon the little knoll by the dry well.

Crossing her arms tightly across her chest, Ino wandered out the infirmary for a short stroll.

Upon exiting however, any glimmer of hope she had left plummeted as soon as the freezing cold bit across her cheek. Still as cold as hell out there, so what she had thought was—no, upon further assessment and more squinting, Ino had not been mistaken. There was indeed, and at least, a scrap of life on that hill.

And the sight of the flowers brought with them more prospect than Ino could ever imagine, and even a good helping of deep and mellow nostalgia.

* * *

Shikamaru had once tried wooing her—or rather, appeasing her—with flowers. Big, bodacious sunflowers because he had been told that a girl would only be happy to carry around a bouquet that could match her outfit. And, at an earlier time, that if one could not find a colour that matched a specific dress; he should find one that could bring out her eyes.

Groaning, Shikamaru had thought the idea of matching up eye colours incredibly clichéd and unoriginal. He wasn't one to actually _care_, though, so heeded her advice when he chose the deep blue cellophane.

"Here," he had said, holding out the posy with a hand behind his head. "Take 'em."

Ino only pouted and crossed her arms crossly. "No way! Trying to win me over with the language of flowers, are we?" Ino blew a raspberry. "After all that's happened, _butter-fingers_, you'd better do better than that!" she said, referring to the incident in which Shikamaru had managed to soak her hair in some Korean barbeque sauce and had to escort her home with bits of red slush stuck slimily against her scalp.

So Shikamaru sighed, chucked the flowers across the counter and exited the Yamanaka's florist with a turn of his heel.

Day one of his lonely war against Ino's spite had failed miserably, so the next day Shikamaru came in prepared and with a plan. It was to be a rose and honeysuckle arrangement; Ino was a librasomethingorother, right? They were her birth-flower thingies; so really, Shikamaru couldn't have gone wrong, right? _Right?_

_...Wrong. _

Unfortunately, his plan never came into fruition as a thunderstorm had raged there through town that day. And even with the bunch hidden beneath his raincoat the flowers easily perished against the wayward rain that pattered poor Shikamaru left and right. Seeing that they had looked deformed and therefore inadequate due to Ino's strict standards, Shikamaru gave up and returned home empty-handed.

By the third day he had embarked on his quest for clemency, Shikamaru had already caught a cold (although he insisted to his mother he had caught pneumonia). But that didn't stop Chouji from dropping by and trading manly stories. Or, "manly stories" in the sense that Chouji mostly rambled on about the new, hot noodle-stand-chick while Shikamaru concentrated on calling Ino names, namely a "royal pain-in-the-arse" and the hallmark "troublesome" wisecrack.

"Don't smart people like you, y'know, ever _try _expanding their vocabulary?" Chouji japed.

"It'd be troublesome," Shikamaru lamented. "Would be much more than my brain can take... I think it'd explode."

Chouji pressed Shikamaru's cloud-shaped pillow closer to his chest. Shikamaru made a moan of despair, followed by a sneeze.

"She'll forgive you, y'know?" Chouji said. "She always does."

The corner of Shikamaru's lip twitched. "I know."

"Then why do you even...?"

Shikamaru flipped his face in the opposite direction of Chouji's. "It's an excuse to get her flowers, I guess." He could feel, if only faintly, the haemoglobin collecting at his cheeks.

Chouji emitted a frustrated groan. "_Awe_, then why don't you jus' tell'er how ya feel?"

"Well, well, if it isn't the love guru himself."

Chouji rolled his eyes. "Soh-_ree_. I'm just saying... you could always try n' see what happens."

"The results might be..." Shikamaru said, raising his nose as if to trace a scent, "troublesome."

"Troublesome this, troublesome that. You're not gonna go anywhere with an attitude like that!" Chouji hmphfed.

Shikamaru frowned. "Geez, bud. I always thought we'd have this unwritten rule where we stay nowhere together."

Chouji rocked in Shikamaru's rocking chair. "I just want you to get ahead, Brainy. Nothin' wrong with that."

"But I've got enough. Don't need to do 'get ahhead'. M' happy with 'okay'. Don't need a girl to make life better."

Chouji shrugged. "Whatever you say, cap'n. It's your life." He stood up from his chair and moved to the door. "Catch ya later."

"Mmmm," Shikamaru hummed. He couldn't decide whether to utter a farewell or lift his hand in goodbye; both choices seemed to consume too much energy.

Shikamaru heaved a sigh and he guessed that if he had been bothered to do just that, he might as well say a parting word. Or two. So he settled with "bye", and Chouji was gone. In Chouji's absence and without the clouds for company, Shikamaru half-embraced the moment's solitude. But simultaneously, he condemned the gap which his full-figured friend had left behind with his departure.

As another haze of laziness overcame him, Shikamaru felt the phlegm rush up his throat for the umpteenth time that day. "Goddamnit," he had cursed.

And all for a stupid bunch of flowers, too! They, the flowers, were a completely stupid metaphor anyway. Especially due to the fact that the hole head of a flower was a giant, (admittedly) _pretty_ sexual organ. So when a man gave a woman a bouquet, in Ino's so-called "language of flowers", it more or less screamed "I'd really, really like to fuck you good."

Not to mention that the most stunning displays of floral colour would only last for a few days before decaying and wilting into a shrivelled vestige of vigour. If that was a symbol of undying love, then Shikamaru had definitely missed it.

...Happy then with the evening's daily musings, Shikamaru trailed off into sleep.

* * *

Ino came crashing in on him unexpectedly the day after he fell sick.

"Shikamaru!" He could hear her, in his bed, all the way over at his doorstep.

"Mum, don't let her in! She's crazy!" Shikamaru coughed.

"What're you talking about, son?" The crazy one here's _you!_" You won't listen to me, so I'm sending this lovely girl up there to knock some sense into you. You hear me?"

Shikamaru's quivering became ever the more evident. He could feel his mother's frightening stare right on him, bearing right through the ceiling.

"I'd say!" Ino agreed with Shikamaru's mother. Immediately after Shikamaru could hear the squeak of her flat sandals up his steps.

Oh_ god. _Shikamaru reached for his four-hundred-and-fifty-seventh tissue, and flushed the snot out of his nose in preparation for Ino's inevitable blows.

The door opened, and Ino appeared with a hard look plastered all over her face. "How dare you—" she jutted, "—how dare you like me all this time, get this red stuff in my hair, use that as an excuse to get me flowers and still not have the common courtesy to even, to even—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up," said Shikamaru, coughing, "I tried to tell you I was sorry, but you wouldn't accept my apology..."

"Sh-shut up!"

"And, who the heck was it that told you that I ever liked you?"

The excitement that had lit up her face previously disappeared. Disappointment, rejection and shock dominated the delicate features of her face, instead. "Ch-"she tried to say. Ino didn't have to finish the sentence though, as Shikamaru made it clear that he knew what she was about to say with a crinkle of his nose.

"Whatever he told you, he was prob'ly right," Shikamaru said. "Chouji doesn't lie."

Ino fumed. "You mean you..."

"Hey, I never said I _didn't _like you."

Ino took a pillow and hurled it in Shikamaru's general direction. She then took the corners of another and bashed in his head. "You stupid pineapple-head! You think this is _funny_?"

Shikamaru chuckled, slow and unnerving. Ino hmphfed, and all but tackled him out of his bed.

"Chill," he said.

"Urgh! Shikamaru, I'm gonna—"

"What, you're just gonna hit on, I mean, beat on some poor sick guy like myself? Ino, I always knew you were troublesome but I..."

"Stop with the mind games, jerk-off!" Ino said. Her face had swollen up like a pufferfish. Her skin was redder than the sauce he had accidentally poured over her head. "If you so much as want to live, you should do goddamn well to meet me tomorrow. Outside my place."

Shikamaru wheezed before giving his eyes an uninterested rub. "Are you asking me out on a _date_?"

"Oh, go suck on one!" Ino kept clenching and unclenching her fist to ensure she keep the majority of her anger in check and thereby saving Mrs. Nara's hard-earned wall. "Just because I'm the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen doesn't mean you can try winning me over like such a weirdo!"

Ino huffed, and this time had to put her hands behind her back in order to resist the urge to take a hold of Shikamaru's neck.

"But I'm sick," said Shikamaru. "You don't wanna be catching a cold, trust me." Shikamaru slid another scratchy tissue over his peeling nose. "It's troublesome."

"Now you're trying to smart-arse your way out of this one, eh?" Ino said, menacingly bending over. "Well, it isn't going to be so easy, you lazy bastard."

"Mmm," Shikamaru mumbled. God, he missed the days when cooties were still a valid excuse and enough to turn her away completely.

Ino closed her eyes, without lifting a single finger he had defeated her yet _again_! But it was going to be the last time. The very last time he'd make such a fool out of her. "Bitch," she growled.

As a token of peace, Shikamaru raised his hands over his head. Then, as if reading her mind he said, "Hey. No one's laughing."

"Alright, _fine_. You meet me there as soon as you clean the snot off your nose," she said. "But you better do it quick. And don't you worry, Shikamaru. I'll be back."

* * *

Shikamaru's convalescence was surprisingly brief.

He could credit this to either his immune system's robust condition (he rarely got sick, anyway) or Ino, who had appeared every single day at his doorstep with hair in place and polished with style. She was always a welcome guest in the Nara household, lugging up the steps with bags full of groceries.

Though Shikamaru had never known what was in those bags; really, because all Ino would ever whip out from them were a knife, a spoon an apple and her dad's awful "surprise soup".

No matter what his protests, in the time that she helped him recover from his certain illness, Ino insisted that he drink the overcooked slush, and that she was allowed to help peel and dice his fruit for him. Because, "it's my fault, anyway," she had said this one time, to which Shikamaru responded with a shake of his head.

When Shikamaru finally began "feeling better," however, Ino dropped all signs of tenderness she had shown him the past few days and quickly reminded him to meet her the following day at her house before taking her leave.

* * *

The following day Shikamaru actually did show up where he was supposed to. He had low expectations in mind and faced the sky in lack of a better view. Until he saw how Ino had dolled herself up that day.

"Ino?"

"Huh?" Ino's head shot up to reveal a floral hairpin and a dash of tasteful make-up gracing her face. "I-I mean, you actually bothered to come?"

Shikamaru took a loud gulp of air. He put his weight on one leg, resting at a tilted slouch. "It was annoying getting here, but yeah."

Ino blinked away her blush, and Shikamaru at last noticed that she had done something new with her hair. "Don't think I'm letting you off that easy."

She gripped his wrist and dragged him into town.

It started off innocently enough, but as they walked along the city's main road, everything changed when Ino made a sharp turn into a narrow alleyway and leant in really, really close. He knew Konoha just as well as he knew his way around a lighter, so it surprised Shikamaru that the existence of that alley had never been known to him.

"You gonna kill me now?" he said. Ino hissed and pressed her elbow to his neck. It hurt more than when Chouji first demonstrated what a Chinese burn was. "What'd you _really _bring me here for?"

"You're really slow now, aren't you?"

"What a—"

Ino muffled Shikamaru's next words with her hand. She could still hear the "troublesome" behind his teeth, though.

"Oh, what do ya think, Shikamaru? I swear, you..."

Unlike Chouji, Shikamaru quickly gave up any semblance of resistance and grew limp.

Good. This was her window of opportunity! He would have never of held still otherwise.

Ino flicked back a bang caught in one of her lashes, uncovered Shikamaru's mouth and licked her lips. It all seemed to move along nicely until she then suddenly jerked back and Shikamaru decided that enough was enough. He pushed forward, and hooked his tongue (he didn't quite know how) behind her canines.

For a moment there, shrouded in the half-light, everything was perfect. Perfect until Ino went and opened her big mouth, spewing forth a few messy words. "Damnit Shikamaru. Close your eyes. Close your eyes, goddamnit! I might be hot for you, but it's _rude _to stare like that!"

"Sorry," said Shikamaru. He instead tried to watch a boy in the far distance playing with his hacky-sack.

Ino grabbed his chin and brought his attention back to her. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"What the hell are you on about, woman?" he said, flapping a hand about in the air. "First you tell me not to look, and now—"

She pulled on the pointed tips of his ponytail and quietened him via an intervention of lips.

And this time, he closed his eyes.

* * *

Ino could not wait to tell Sakura of all that she had been up to. There was an immense sense of joy that came with firstly, making the first move on Shikamaru and secondly, besting her friend in the game of love.

In the budding stages of their rocky relationship, Ino was boastful (and in all honesty, hopeful rather than confident), and there were few people in town that had not known of their "going steady", of which received much publicity from the girl herself. And because the chemicals and hormones and electrical impulses in Shikamaru's brain were all still very much new and alive, the smitten boy (subconsciously) decided to overlook all of the girl's glaring shortcomings.

Those symptoms of that disease known as the "love bug" then went on to withstand many a wave of rows and irritations, lingering for a decent duration of time. A good, long stretch that had lasted as far as the minute Ino finally decided to jump into a bed with Shikamaru—quick to point out his incompetence, though this only helped to refine his skill in the art of sex—and actually develop some romantic feelings for the guy. Feelings _besides_ the girlish intrigue and the giddying limerence that could only be compared to a short-lived sugar high. Complex, difficult feelings that went beyond childhood memories and unadulterated, platonic concern.

Their respect for each other grew so deep that they eventually even settled on moving in together. So stupid was Shikamaru that he even proposed (a little vaguely, of course) and bought her a ring of (relatively inexpensive) silver.

Unfortunately she lost the band a few weeks into their engagement, and with that ensued another one of their infamously charged arguments (On Ino's side of the debate, anyway).

The fight was a harsh one, and shortly after Ino had moved her cute little bubble-butt out of there. She could never show it, but Ino was exceptionally heartbroken that she'd have to carve such an ultimatum for herself and really quite sorry that she had let the godforsaken ring slip right off her finger. So the only thing to do really, was agree to disagree.

Shikamaru had softly suggested for her to "get out," if she had really hated living in that so-called hole for so long, and she could only leave to regain her ruined pride. He had never broken the engagement, so Ino just assumed that like her, Shikamaru could not stay mad at her for long, and would beg her to come back after a slight cool-off period. After all, she was the closest he could ever get to a goddess.

But oh, how wrong she was.

By the time she had been away from him for a fortnight, there were still no words Shikamaru had to say to her. With only Chouji acting as a median between the estranged couple, the two weeks had soon stretched into half a year.

The drought of information did not end until the day Ino had coincidentally passed by what had been their apartment after a long day of shopping, and caught sight of a mysterious female figure with a key. To _their _apartment!

Ino's heart had thudded hard against her chest, and a rush of fury brought her to boiling point. Whoever that woman was, she was most certainly _begging _for Ino to investigate!

So in the next few days Ino watched this mystery woman. Suspicious evidence of a relationship was all around, but none such as obvious as the time she could see them right through the window.

Lord almighty, she had obviously been baring her breasts at him and he rewarding her with a crazed charge she'd never known he had. And they even had not the modesty to adjust a bloody curtain!

Ino had then turned her head in shame, and exited the scene with no time to brood over such a thing, her foundation mixing with tears.

* * *

Reports to confirm the incident came flying in soon after, and as confused as she was, Ino did nothing to even try and sink deeper into that inscrutable woman's recent history. She didn't want to. She didn't need to. She was _over _Shikamaru.

Ino tried not to think about it, and for a day or two succeeded.

But then changes began to rapidly take place before she could even bounce back from her mental pitfalls. In what seemed like a flash, the war came, Shikamaru had shipped himself off to fight without so much a goodbye, Chouji had disappeared with him and it was suddenly all the rage to enrol as a nurse for the armed service.

So being the airheaded fool she was, Ino signed her name on a dotted line and dragged Sakura into her tumbling mess of a life.

Which brought her to where she was now; bending over and inspecting the pretty shrub adorned with delicate, hoary petals, the serene, delicate organism contrasting quite sharply against the backdrop of the scorched wasteland that lay beyond the hill.

Since then she still hadn't been able to entirely forget about Shikamaru (especially not with the Other Woman's kind trip down to the infirmary). He had always been on her mind, whether it be at the forefront or the rear of it. There was no helping or denying that constant fear of danger she held for herself, her comrades and her would-be lover.

Comrades like Chouji. She didn't know how he was doing, either, and she worried about him alot. She hoped that they were feeding him properly, that no one was a fool enough to decide to pick on him, that he was happy wherever he was and that he was looking after Shikamaru, because for all she knew both of them were dead now. And that hurt most of all, because she never had the chance to thank Chouji for being such a good friend to her for all those years, and might never have one in the future.

And she regretted bringing Sakura along. She felt guilty and responsible, because her friend had never been the same after coming here. Ino didn't find the work so bad, and Sakura was even better at it than she was, but her spirit changed and it frightened Ino. Sakura was zombie-like, and some kind of a stranger to her now, and Ino couldn't help but think that it she was the one to blame.

Perhaps most of all, Ino missed home. She missed her dad's disgusting mystery soup and her mother's soft, expressive voice calling her from downstairs. Every time she thought of their little flower shop and their irises and cornflowers and roses and lilac, she felt as if she had thorns in her feet and her hands that kept her away from their shop. She never dreamed that she would miss her shifts there, and definitely didn't think that she would ever cry so hard over her faraway family.

Up until then, Ino doubted that there was a moment she was able to _completely_ push those dilemmas out of her mind. But as she looked about the solitary bush of plastery white and tender green, her worries had been overtaken with feelings of overwhelming happiness.

And she thought, god save Mother Nature.

"Hey, little guy," she whispered keenly to the flower. In all her hopeless hope, Ino wished hard for a reply. Hell, she'd even settle for a sway of a leaf. As expected though, there was no answer, and she puffed her cheeks out in disappointment.

Amazing how such a modest blossom like that could endure even the harshest and cruellest of the seasons. With nothing but a few thin roots to hold it to the squidgy soil, Ino had to commend it for enduring rain and storm, blizzard and frost. No, it was more than mere admiration; the wildflower was a symbol of fortitude, of faith, practically an inspiration for Ino and most definitely anyone else lucky enough to be graced by its silent company.

"Maybe spring'll come early this year, huh?" she directed at the plant.

Again, there was no answer. Ino smiled nevertheless; the very incidence of life budding against that winter landscape had was a promise of rebirth in itself. And that, Ino decided, was enough.

* * *

Girls were such a likeable species. Naruto had known so many of them in his all too short life.

There was porcelain Sakura, who smelt of fresh milk and had thin pink hair and shied away from his touch. He never did quite understand her; she was a butterfly who always fled too fast and too high for him to pin down. She kissed him only once, but from then on there was no going back.

There was Ino and Tsunade. All tough girls as he had remembered them.

And then there was Hinata who loyally held his hand through his darkest hour, after countless hours of fever and delirium. He hadn't counted the days, but he had known that _that _was coming one day or another. It just... he had never given up hope. No, even now he still refused to accept it. But it _hurt. _Oh, it hurt so _much._ And like Sakura always said to him, there was no harm in coming prepared.

Naruto gestured for Hinata to come closer as he whispered what very well could've been his last words. She only inched a few centimetres closer with that first step. He grimaced in pain, and within another moment she was pressed to his cheek, quivering and bawling. However, Naruto had been slipping in and out of consciousness, so it was difficult to tell whether or not time slowed or quickened for him.

_Oh, _she should have listened to Neji and told him when she had the chance. All her hopes of one day spilling her heart out to him were crushed, and further trampled over with Naruto's next line of speech. She felt, she felt almost as if the already delicate arteries of her heart collapsed, putting so much pressure on her lungs that she could almost _hear _them meet in her chest. Mind you, that was not a healthy way to be thinking.

"Sa-," Naruto huffed, "S-Sasuke... T-Tell him. Tell him that I'll be in line to kick his dead little arse in the afterlife if he dies... and Sakura. Tell Sakura that..." Naruto gasped and took in a gulp of air whilst his face twisted in the most mortifying expression of pain.

"_I love her!_" he finally manage to rasp, Naruto's grip tightening on Hinata's before loosening up limp. His eyes became still, and Hinata was thrust suddenly into a state of frigid solitude. She called out his name numerous times, and after what was possibly the thirtieth she jumped up to notify his beloved.

Hinata called her name, much too loudly for those hallowed halls.

Through the dozens of nurses she passed, she bumped into a particularly familiar face.

* * *

It had been particularly hectic the day before. To start with, Asuma had been killed instantly that morning after being shot in the head. He was a pretty lucky bastard compared to those who had suffered a slower death. She did not have any time to spare to stop and check on him as she was making her way to help a hysterical Chouji caught in some barbed wire a few metres away, but perhaps that was only her mistake.

If it had not been for Lee, who always been there for her, she would have been dead already.

You see, he had taken her in his arms and rolled her to the right when the mortar hit them. With Lee in a weakened yet steady state, it was then Tenten's turn to be there for him. Out of some strange reflex she grabbed him and hurled him over her shoulder. Even though he weighed considerably more than her, Tenten moved fast to ensure his safety, ending up there in the abbey. She had been waiting a whole night so she could get news on Lee, and during that time she hadn't slept. In fact, the whole division had not slept for several days, and it was a bloody barmy wonder how they could still manage to stand on their own two feet.

But there was no denying the fact that she was tired, because it showed. Her eyes had been set deeper in and she spoke in a nervous jitter. The solution smeared across her face was a mixture of browns and reds, and her kit showed that she was seriously low in both ammunition and rations. Her stomach growled for she had no time to eat the past day or two while her shoes were sodden wet. To make matters worse she had tripped over a small ditch in the ground, spraining her ankle to further slow her movement.

"Miss Hyuuga?" Tenten looked up to meet a saddening sight. It was Hinata with her apron decked with crimson, face robbed of innocence. She had seen death, and Tenten knew it. And when she spoke, Hinata's words were so heavily stifled with sobs Tenten could not make out a single word.

"He's... he's gone," she cried. Hinata bit down harshly on her lower lip, and Tenten limped forward as Hinata swayed and nearly brushed against the floor with her face. Luckily, Tenten had been quick enough to catch her in time.

"Look at me!" Tenten commanded, taking Hinata by the arms, "Who is it? Who's gone?"

"Na-Naruto. H-he..."

Tenten dropped her arms and cursed. The idiot had gotten ahead of himself again. He must of. No one was going to be happy with the news; Naruto was a force of nature. He was the clown of the group. No, more than that. He was the very _heart_ of them. Tenten shook her head.

"No, that mustn't be right," she said. Tenten's hand wondered to her aching side, and swore once again. She was picking up so many bad habits from the boys these days. Hinata then excused herself quietly, pulling out of her grip and sprinting off to who-knows-where.

* * *

An hour or so later Tenten still hadn't seen any sign of Hinata around, but to compensate for it she heard from one of the matrons who told her she had permission to see her friend.

The heavy woman led her through a simple path, and pushed the correct door ajar for Tenten when they arrived at where Lee was. Tenten paused as she put her hands on the knob of the door.

"How bad is it?"

The matron simply offered a sympathetic smile, nothing more. That was pretty much the giveaway, though Tenten refused to believe it until she saw it herself. Nevertheless Tenten had developed a bad case of the shivers, and quick.

When she at long last gathered the courage to pass the door, all the shaking stopped. Instead her stomach dropped below her intestines and her mouth dried of all saliva. She rubbed her eyes thrice to be sure of what she saw. Tenten had forgotten his name for a moment; she was in such a state of bewilderment.

Rock? Rock Lee—Yes, her best friend. Lee.

Lee's left limbs were missing.

Once her brain had assessed and calculated the issue in the clearest way possible, it felt as if all logic had failed her. She began to scream and kick, anger expressed as if performing a dance of demons. What had possessed her was anguish she had never known before.

Half a dozen maids soon flood into the room in an attempt to restrain her, but they were no match for her battle-hungry bones.

"_Who did this?_" she howled. "Who... w-who..."

In response to her lament, a voluptuous woman approached from the doorway. "I did."

Tenten prepared to lunge at the figure, before the realisation hit her that the woman speaking was someone strangely familiar. Nearly one that came from right out of her father's many history books at home.

Yes, she did seem awfully like...

Tsunade. Tenten's heroine, her idol. Seeing that this woman looked a remarkable lot like the mythical Tsunade, it would be well in order for her to gape, but just this one occasion which she did not.

"You," Tsunade said, pointing an accusatory finger at Tenten, "How would you like to take a trip to my office?"

Her tone either bordered on cruelty, or Tenten was finally losing it.

* * *

Tenten clenched her fists. She was willing to swallow it for her, the whole reason she ever volunteered for this hellhole, even if she was about to pop a capillary. She let herself be walked down to Tsunade's office, and sat when she was commanded to sit. Tsunade began with the first word.

"How do you expect me to work by making so much noise? I've got thousands of injured soldiers to deal with. You've seen 'em, in here, outside. Your friend's lucky he was able to snag a spot indoors."

Tenten bit down on her lip, emitting a low growl. Lee's permanent dismemberment was perhaps still not enough for her to shatter all the respect she had been accumulating for this woman for years.

"Who's your commanding officer, kid?" Tsunade asked coyly. She downed some crude champagne from a bottle.

"Why?"

"I want to have a little chat with him."

"You don't have the right to just..." Tenten shook her head.

This is not how she thought her first meeting with her idol would be. There should have been a bouquet of fuchsia and a bombarding of compliments, of how Tenten had _always wanted to meet her _and how much of _an amazing inspiration _she was, some word of advice and one happy girl. Suffice to say she was sorely disappointed; Tsunade was definitely not the woman Tenten thought she was. She was rude, she was dismissive, she was dispassionate, she was flawed, she was an _alcoholic_ and most of all she was _human_.

"Of _course_ I can, little girl. Don't you know who I am?" Tsunade remarked ironically.

"Yes, you wouldn't know how much I've admired your—" Tenten cut herself off before she babbled on any further. She theorised then that it was all just a dream. Lee losing his limbs, Naruto and Asuma's deaths, _and_ a conversation with Tsunade on the very same day... it was all too strange to be true. "But I deserve the blame. Let's not drag him into it too, huh?"

"I want his name and I want it now. I'll be sure you're punished accordingly for upsetting _my _girls and disrupting the peace in _my_ place, young man."

Tenten sucked her lips behind her tongue. She on the one hand wanted to respect and love and trust this woman, but on the other she was being quite the arsehole. But Tsunade's facial retaliation was so horrifyingly fierce, Tenten had to submit quite quickly to her persuasive ways. "Neji. Neji Hyuuga," Tenten muttered in defeat.

The woman snuffed, satisfied. But before she scathed Tenten further, she (rather unexpectedly) made a quick comment to ease up the soldier's spirits. "We had no choice," she said, simply with a softened face and genuine smile. The legendary heroine then took Tenten by the chin. "He'll be fine now, so try to keep your head up, kid."

Tenten shivered. To think! _The _Tsunade, smiling, and giving her encouragement! Had she been back at home she would have simply dropped and allowed a good few minutes to squeal. Unfortunately it was not the time, and Tenten could just settle with forgiveness and a very controlled smile back.

In the small silence that followed as Tsunade began to gather numbers, Tenten's eyes darted around the room. One little thing that caught her eye was a small framed picture, in it a very familiar face with long, rugged white hair and a handsome, aged feature. She flipped through her memories and remembered the peddlar from the beginning of the journey, and suddenly everything clicked together.

"Excuse me," Tenten said, softly.

"Mmm." Tsunade had slurped another cup of alcohol and had her red-painted fingernails under her chin.

"Uhm, who might this person be?" Tenten gestured to the picture.

"An old drinking buddy of mine," Tsunade said. She looked at the photograph with a half-smile. When she turned back to Tenten, however, her expression became hard. "But that is private business and does not concern the likes of you."

Tenten shrunk, angry and sad and scared for Tsunade. "I just—I think I've seen this man around."

Tsunade's eyes went wide then, and both her hands dropped to her desk. It could have been a misplaced speck of light in the room, because Tenten thought she saw the faintest trace of a tear by the edge of Tsunade's brown, brown eyes.

"Jiraiya," Tsunade said, and it was barely a whisper. The name was not addressed to Tenten, though the soft "thank you" that followed was.

* * *

And the veteran began to work her magic, marking an abrupt end to Tenten's much too brief pity party (a harsh, but fair action). She dialled a lot of numbers, screamed at a lot of soldiers, and by the time the hour was over, a scrubby Neji had appeared beside Tenten in an exhausted array of frowns. And even after all that trouble she said nothing more than four sentences to him.

"Your troop here has been a rather naughty boy. I'll be making sure you're demoted by the time this is over, Hyuuga Neji. You should be exercising more discipline into your troops, shouldn't you, lieutenant?" She then dismissed the two with a word and a wave.

Tenten was expecting Neji to object to her rudeness while telling her she wasn't actually liable to demote him (supported by the fact he had a general for an uncle) like the smartass he was, but surprisingly didn't.

Gracefully, he craned his neck like that of a swan in apology to the chief matron, took Tenten by the arm and walked out of the abbey in a civilised and refined manner.

Tenten then expected him to scold her with his searing scowl but that he didn't do either. Instead he calmly asked her whatever the matter was and why in the world had she been gone without a word for such a long time. So she explained to him the series of events leading up to where they stood, and with a dignified bob, Neji showed that he totally understood.

"We shall go for a drink then, before we leave to catch up to our division," he announced. His voice was calm and his eyes kind, although sad for their day's losses. "They can't have moved very far by tomorrow."

She didn't reject the proposal; a drink sounded like a good idea.

Neji first dropped into Hiashi's tent for a private chat plus new plans, and was then free to plan a toast for their comrades in Neji's private quarters.

* * *

Her lieutenant placed a jug of putrid liquid before her. A handsome officer indeed, with a cleanly shaven chin and long strands of black hair falling from his head to perfectly frame his face. And suddenly remembering the effect it had on her the last time she'd been stupid enough to drink alcohol, the beer was chugged down in a few seconds flat.

"Get me another."

And so he did. "Drink up. Today's been…"

"Hell yeah... Tell me about it."

And after a few more, the tears that she held back and clouded her vision, keeping her far away from reality, began to downpour as she felt herself falling into something strange, but comfortably numb. Her mind drifted off elsewhere, where she was sure it was a place that held her memories.

"Thank you, sir," she said, holding up the beer to the light and watching the gold and froth glimmer against it, "for being here for me." Tenten's eyes began to water.

"And thank you."

"For what?"

Neji cast his gaze towards his left fist resting upon the table. "As I am here for you, you also stay to keep me company. I truly need to thank you for that, Tenten."

Tenten snorked, but smiled with gratitude nevertheless. "Stupid, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Neji put down his jug and shifted his position to one more suitable for listening.

"She used to be my idol. That Tsunade... it turns out she's not quite what I expected," she said. "I thought she'd be... Oh, I don't know anymore, lieutenant."

"So you'd rather of never met her at all?"

"No!" She picked at the button at the bottom of her uniform. "I'm just—"

"Disappointed?" he proposed.

"Dunno. Something like that."

Tenten shrugged, and yet again pressed the glass to her lip.

* * *

After what seemed to be their penultimate drink, Neji was about to suggest a last jug be drunk in Naruto's honour. So he stood to fetch one final helping of beer, but not before Tenten planted a small peck on his cheek, bringing with it a subtle stink of alcohol.

The kiss had caught his attention, and quickly he his head turned back to her. Neji held his hand up to his cheek; the flesh her lips had brushed against was burning hot.

Her proximity was so fleeting, it was cold-blooded torture to tease him with such an act. Sure, it most probably wasn't her intention to do so, but that one drop of touch he had longed for so long had left him wanting for more, _more._ It drove him into a delirium and in it, Hyuuga Neji lost all concept of inhibition.

Forgetting the wild rollercoaster they had both been put through that day, Neji gently tugged her by the back of her hair, pulled her close to him, and took a good, long look at her face. Her features began to blur; her skin had become a grand oil painting, and Neji wondered if he too was acting under the influence of alcohol. For in that instance, his mind had been cleared of all its previous trains of thought: Naruto's death, Lee's crippling injuries, his hard trek to the infirmary and _everything else... _All gone. His psyche had been cleared to a blank slate full of nothing but Tenten and the piss-tasting beverage that caused his heightened state of perplexity.

A drunken giggle erupted from Tenten's peeling lips. "You want to start somethin' with me!"

Neji withdrew, his mouth twisted into a sort of pout. "And what if I do?"

"No problem. You gotta do what you gotta do," she laughed. Suggestively, she accordingly opened and clasped her legs. Neji forestalled his gaze; she had such little self-control in her intoxicated stupor. "C'mon, I _dare_ you."

Neji shook his head in discrepancy, but it didn't stop himself from pushing his mouth on hers, finally letting the shame tumble over his head.

What on god's earth was he doing? The poor girl! First having had to sit through that horrible day of theirs and _now _having to endure his totally inappropriate advances...

Tenten pushed him away before he could even apologise.

"No, no, no. This is cliché, and I could never do such a thing to Lee. Poor, poor Lee," she burbled incoherently.

Humiliation and shame gushed down his throat as she collapsed onto his lap, not quite asleep but not quite awake, either.

* * *

**29/8/2011**: Okay, I fixed all errors I could see. More importantly I added a fair bit into this chapter: Ino's character is hopefully more fleshed out after I added some more backstory for her in her feelings towards the current state of Shikamaru, Chouji, Sakura and her family, and there is a brand new section that heavily alludes to a relationship between Jiraiya and Tsunade. At least, I sorely hope it does.

Wow, this is definitely the longest chapter in the fic, now.

* * *

**17/2/2011**: Edited a few typos, added a few sentences!

* * *

**OLD A/N:**_ Here's your late Valentine's Day gift. If you'd like to leave me a Valentine, too, do so by sending me a review. :D_

_Wow. I ACTUALLY USED A LITERARY TECHNIQUE. After I while, I realised the opening of the fic is actually in media res! Impressive, I must say, though I'm not quite so sure about this chapter's many tense switches. Bear with me, please._

_I finally got to delve into Ino's character, though whether or not the results were good is up to you readers... It's actually a total coincidence that the chapter turned out Valentines-y, since I wrote it a very long time ago and stuff. __Anyway, I'm sorry that I've not updated. For five straight days I've been junking out across from my Wii again, this time playing a GameCube game called Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance, and then spending a week after that mostly trying to familiarise myself with the fandom. And even though I've been terribly spoiled with Radiant Dawn's plot... and ending, I still desperately want to get my hands on that sequel. Then there was school... and stuff. And there'll be even more school in the future so... no speedy updates I'm afraid, even with my drafts written up. The best I can do is weekly, and still that's only a maybe. Sorry._


	21. Secrets

_Little Secret_

Hinata wept profusely by her brick of a bunk. She had assumed Sakura would want the privilege of gracing what was previously Naruto's bedside, so in her better judgement she thought it'd be better that she stay out of the way while the other woman mourned, too.

The girl clutched his blood-clotted uniform in her arms, holding it close. His distinctive smell still clung to the ragged cloth, and with it Hinata felt that his presence had only partly left. Just not flesh and bones, is all. Yes. He was still there, she _knew _it.

She carefully moved her hands around the rim of his helmet, flipping it to face her like a bowl. She dolefully eyed the fabric worn with his blood, sweat and tears, discovering without surprise humorous stamps, a picture of the Yellow Flash or two and a few noodle tokens he seemed to have pieced together throughout the years.

Hinata's tears seemed to finally ease up, if even a little, as the various novelties Naruto had left behind had somehow worked their way into condoling her.

Hinata was unsure whether or not she should've been playing with his things like so, but she then continued to curve her hands around the hard headdress anyway. She was sure Naruto would've let her try it on and even more so since she would return them, eventually.

So she tried fit it atop her head, with awkward results. The remaining bundle of clothes fell off her lap as she lifted her arms above her head, giving off a decent _thud _when it hit the floor.

Hinata panicked before she'd realised it was just something Naruto had been keeping in his pocket.

Reaching down, Hinata brushed her hands softly over the smooth leather, and a picture or two came flying right out of it.

"Oh, marbles!" she all but screamed before the photographs made a soft and innocent landing in a corner.

* * *

Now, Hinata was not one to intrude on one's privacy, but she couldn't help but spare a peek at the memories that had been imprinted upon the snapshots.

She took the first monochrome shot with supreme care, and was unsurprisingly greeted by Sakura—who looked maybe a year or two younger than she was now, and her smiling face. Even with her features rendered in a grainy black and white, Hinata could still see the faint dimples in her smiling cheeks and gloss over her comely lips. She could see why he had loved her so, as photographs were still a luxury and it really said something that he would go out of his way for such an expensive treat.

The second glossy sheet was slightly more recent, but still in similar granular style as the first. The hues were dipped in sepia, though, and instead of another tribute to Sakura as Hinata expected, it was a happy portrait of Naruto and his best friend, Sasuke. His arms were hooked around the other boy's neck, who in turn was facing away but trying to curb a smile all the same. Squinting to see, Hinata could even see a spot of their old teacher grinning in the background. What was his name, again? (Masashi? No, _Kakashi._)

A giggle broke out through the thickening atmosphere as she once again caught a glimpse of that wondrous smile of his.

When she pressed her fingers onto the third piece of scrap, she felt an odd familiarity around it.

Although Hinata knew exactly what the small charm had been from the moment she saw it, she still couldn't believe Naruto had carried it around for so long.

A tangerine calendula was fitted between the Hyuuga's best paper, a ridiculously appropriate gift for the late soldier. Orange was his favourite colour, after all. She had given it to him before he had left for the war and by god, he actually kept it! He actually kept it for all that time!

Hinata welled with tears once again. Oh, she couldn't bring herself return his clothes. Not just yet.

Hinata had hatched a plan. Naruto wasn't one to just sit around as war literally raged around him. As of right then, Hinata decided that she wasn't either.

* * *

Sunny days _lie_.

It was an unquestionable truth that Shikamaru discovered not long ago, when it seemed to all go wrong in a single day. At least with rain what you see is what you get. Shitty weather is honest. But fine weather isn't.

They all start out bright and cheery, enough to really let you feel the warmth of rays on your skin. A gentle breeze whips past you and you swear that the very soil is singing with praise. You watch the clouds go by in the shape of bunnies and babies, but in the end something will always happen to bite you back in the arse and pull you back down to earth.

The day before was such a day like this. It started out fine, with the sun peeking through a harem of cumuli. He offered the soldiers warmth from the melting snow, and in return they were happy and sang some soldier's song in his honour. Without Naruto there to lend his strident and confident voice to guide them, they sang even louder to fill in the gap he'd left in their melody.

But then the first shot was fired and Asuma was killed instantly. Shikamaru didn't even realise it as he was too busy ducking and fretting and loading. He only noticed when he called for his mentor and having not been replied to for a while, bothered to move his lazy head and take a look around. Staring at the faded eyes, still and unmoving, Shikamaru finally realised he was dead.

Before he had the opportunity to close Asuma's eyelids, it was time to move on. Though this was delayed as somehow, in all that turmoil, Chouji had gotten himself snarled in some wire. He and Ryuu reached to help to him, though the latter was hit with a mortar shell in his quest to help a mate. Having had a closer look, Ryuu was fine but Lee however was indeed not. Then there was then a lot of screaming back and forth, mainly on Ryuu and Lt. Neji's parts.

It ended with Ryuu leaving with Lee in her arms, a rather unfortunate loss of both sniper and scout.

Without Naruto there to help out, Neji had the tricky task of having to command and handling the machine gun at the same time. Their little platoon was falling slowly but surely apart, not to mention the entire division was in a complete state of disarray.

And the tanks, shouldn't they have arrived by now? They were late, late, _late._

Even being the intelligent scholar Shikamaru was it was only after the battle ended that he was able to take everything in. Asuma was dead, and quite possibly, so was Naruto. Ryuu and Lee too, for all he knew. It was as if they had developed an odd habit now for late feelings.

With that in mind, Shikamaru hurriedly lit a cigarette and thereby gave himself a pathetic excuse to cry. "I'm not crying; the smoke's just getting into my eyes," Shikamaru retorted as Chouji leaned on him for support. He had become sizes smaller now that they involuntarily fasted for days on end and subsequently such a smaller weight on his shoulder. He missed his old figure though; the bony shoulder Shikamaru had to lean on now was hardly comfortable.

"When we get home, I'm treating us all to an all-you-can-eat barbeque. Asuma would've wanted us to," said Shikamaru, rubbing his eyes with his wrist. Chouji too was upset, but instead of hiding it behind an awkward, indifferent mask he bawled like a baby. Sasuke and Shino were solemn beside them.

* * *

That night they slept with their boots wet and hearts frozen, only to wake with their feet hardened like glaciers and morale lower the farthest depths of the Arctic Ocean.

Three in the morning came, and they'd only received an hour or two of sleep. But they guessed that it was better than nothing at all. They were never issued orders to advance, and so they stayed snugly in their little trench. This time Shikamaru was able to sneak in a few naps, and even a game of chess or two. Sasuke had almost defeated him in one game, but as always Shikamaru remained the champion of the board.

Later in the evening they soon discovered that nothing had or was to happen even if they could clearly hear the sounds of mass destruction in the background. But it wasn't reaching them, and that's all that mattered. So they prepared to sleep extra early.

Settled two minutes into sleep, Shikamaru was alerted with news from the lieutenant, voice a bit fuzzy across the intermissions of static. Shikamaru listened well.

They could catch up tomorrow; everything was under control. Also, Neji had been the first to notify to the whole division that their orders were to launch an ambush, taking advantage of the terrain as soon the following evening or as late as dusk the day after. Neji could definitely catch up by then, though he may've had to carry Ryuu on his back. The next battle would be easier than the recently hopeless one they had just fought, as tank support was on its way, soon. They would march as soon as they arrived, with the tanks, their lieutenant, Ryuu and all, together.

And oh, one more thing. Naruto had officially been marked as deceased.

An eavesdropping Sasuke leant in closer before Shikamaru even had the space to react to the news, his voice almost a snarl. The thin bishop Sasuke had been holding between his fingers snapped. "What was that?"

Shikamaru paused, clutching the radio closer. "Naruto."

"He's gone," Sasuke stated, without even needing so much a reaffirmation from Shikamaru. His expression harboured no change. The other soldier stood as still as he could, eyes fixed and movement slow as Sasuke brushed a hand over his rifle.

"Sa-Sasuke?" Shikamaru yelped involuntarily. "Sasuke, what're you doing?"

Sasuke ignored him, gripping his rifle and half-standing in a crouch. "I'm going for a walk."

Shikamaru was then forced to push open his eyes to understand what was happening. Shikamaru tried to convince Sasuke rethink his rashness in a nervous jumble of words. As sergeant, he even ordered him to hey, come the hell back!

Alas, Sasuke ignored his pleas.

* * *

Chouji was awoken in a timely manner when he heard a shot being fired, very close. He let out a startled yell and cocked his own weapon. But once he had opened his eyes, he saw only Shikamaru, and no signs of enemy fire.

"Shit!" the sergeant cursed. Since Kakashi and Asuma were both dead and Neji had been called away, Shikamaru was the next best thing. He wasn't much of a commander though; since he only technically took charge of a grand total of four soldiers and they all listened mainly to their division leader anyway. Besides, what kind of leader lets his comrades walk right off—and just what had that bullet been for? Shikamaru only had a sinister inkling of who that gunshot was meant for, but he daren't try to think any further into the matter.

"What the hell's going on? Are we being attacked?" Chouji panicked.

"No." Shikamaru smoothed back his hair. "Sasuke, he went for a walk."

"What do you mean?"

"How should I know wherever the hell he went?" Shikamaru groaned. "He just said, 'I'm going for a walk'."

Chouji _oh-_ed forbearingly and _hm-_ed with uncertainty. Questions still remained. "Then what was that gunshot I just heard? Did he say he was coming back?"

Shikamaru had the feel of nausea afloat in his stomach. He hated to lie, worse when it was to Chouji. "I don't think we should be expecting him back soon. If ever."

* * *

When dusk had begun to show itself amongst the cerise fluffs of cloud in the firmament above, the sun was a shining citrine hoisted low up on the sky. Mauve began to streak the melting snow while orange-gold bled through the water in the distance. By and large it was one of the most beautiful landscapes Shikamaru ever did see in his life, and with it he decided to enjoy the scene with a cigarette.

Shikamaru squinted as he turned his eyes downward, to further inspect the curious trading card he had found along the path Sasuke had paved for himself earlier that day.

The plastic was bright, just like the sun and made of a rather dull and worn material. It once probably been the glittering object of a child's affection, and still retained that sparkly quality. And although the toy did seemed aged, the card also seemed like it had been kept in good care. Shikamaru assumed that the card was of extreme value to its owner. He was sure that the card had belonged to Sasuke as he had seen him hold it before, but unsure what exact value it would have to such an apathetic individual.

Delving into the matter further, Shikamaru picked up on a select few other points he had forgotten earlier. On the collectible was printed a picture of the great folk hero, the Yellow Flash, who was none other than the late Uzumaki Naruto's idol. Seeing how Sasuke had always been helplessly in love with Naruto...

_Aha!_ Shikamaru remembered them! Chouji used to collect them all the time. During the height of their childhood, those peculiar potato chip thingies where ever the popular treat with boys and girls alike. Primary-schoolers would latch onto their mother's dresses in plea for the insanely popular "toys" the chips often came with, and Chouji was no different. He had collected all but a couple of the rarest.

That's it. It must've been some sort of gift from Naruto to Sasuke that the poor kid worshipped like a copy of the bible.

So the right thing to do would be to get in touch with Ino and have her present Sakura—the closest either man had to next of kin—with the artefact.

And for a moment, he actually considered going with that plan.

_...Pah! _Shikamaru spat.

Contact _Ino?_

* * *

Hinata pulled her boy's cap over her head. To find her cousin so he could hustle herself, somehow, into the army. Her ashen eyes were swollen from tears and lack of sleep, but she was determined to reach her destination.

She'd shyly asked around for directions to the tenth division, and only arrived not far from where she started after hours of questioning. Only until that day had she found that men were not the gentlemen she thought them all to be. Not one of the soldiers she'd asked had the courteousness to measure to a half of any Hyuuga man—and they all addressed her as _half-pint, _or _whippersnapper _or something of the like. She didn't know what in the world those words meant, but judging by the way the spoke them with their lewd, toothless grins, Hinata thought to herself that they were more likely insults rather than compliments, a far cry from _lady _or _ma'am_.

Hinata found Fang sleeping quietly in a trench to the north-western side of the field, and snugly sat next to him.

"Kiba, are you asleep?" she whispered. Hinata proceeded to prod his cheek.

He woke with a start, grabbing his rifle by his right and pressing it to her face. It had been a long time since someone had called him by that name. Hinata froze, her snowy eyes mirroring the moon under the starry sky. "K-Kiba... it's me, Hinata!"

The soldier instantly withdrew his weapon, immediately throwing his arms around her the second he could, frivolously kissing her cheeks with his chapped lips.

"Hinata, is that you? Can you be real?" he gasped. He couldn't... He kissed her again to make sure she wasn't just a hallucination. "Oh, Hinata am I glad to see you!"

As the momentary euphoria wore off, rationality and logic settled back into him. "Wait, Hinata? How did you... What're you doing here?"

Hinata tucked her scarf in, disappointed with how easily he had noticed her. With Kiba there was none of the awkwardness that was so often associated with Naruto, though the very thought of the name conjured up unfathomable feelings of grief.

"Is it that e-easy to tell?" she stammered.

"Of course!" said Kiba. He ruffled her shirt collar and tousled her hair. "What kinda idiot do ya take me for to miss those pair of eyes? I'd still know you were Hinata if you had turned right inta a pup. I'm not..." He paused before he uttered the name. _Naruto_. That's right, he was gone. Kiba bit himself, welling a bit of blood from the inside of his cheek to pool in the crevices between his teeth. Naruto was a good kid.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, you know." Hinata shook her head to let him know that she forgave him. It was a wonder how she managed to get a hold of that uniform, let alone hide her succulent breasts under it. "You look good, Hinata," he commented.

When Kiba smiled she too made an effort to grin.

Then it hit him that _she _had appeared to him dressed as a _man._

* * *

Erstwhile, Neji dealt with the sobering Tenten.

At first it was a difficult trek with the drunken woman, and terribly hard on Neji's part. He was bombarded with conflicting feelings of sorrow at the casualties and wonder for how he'd finally been able to do what had been bothering him for weeks.

With her intake of alcohol, Tenten had shifted from shameless nymphomaniac to hysterical madwoman to highly delirious to simply unconscious all in one night. Yet Neji was prepared to pull her hair back whenever she felt the need to sick over his shoes; she had done the same for him, and Neji would never, ever forget.

* * *

Tenten awoke with her vision blurred, and a ghost in her head.

It was her mother, at her favourite rocking chair with a novel clenched in her long, slender fingers.

_Mummy!_ She tossed her head to the right. _Oh ma, I want to go home. I want to go home and..._

Before she could take in the lingering, hazy picture, the image had been snatched away from her and traded with another illustration. This time, her father was by the fire, smiling along and placing plods of wood into the hearth, each individual log landing with a distinctive _plop._

And then soon, he too, was erased out of her mind and replaced again with old and arthritic Gai.

_Mr. Maito? Sir, have you taken your supplements today?_

The old man ignored her, simply pushing forward with his cane. But wait a second; he hadn't been that bad since she last saw him! As she approached, his knees began to grow increasingly weak. They wobbled against each other, Gai faltered, and pretty soon he was bent over his timber floor, hacking up blood and...

She couldn't quite make it out what it was; she never had the chance to. In a flash she had been transported to a hospital and right in front of her eyes was Lee, bleeding and in the process of—

—And then, sooner than she could even scream—Water?

_Huh? _

Water and metal met her lips, and Tenten coughed. The sensation of the cool, hydrating fluid against the bitingly cold, hard steel was enough to snap her out of her trance.

All of a sudden, her head began to sting like a _bitch_.

"Lieu—lieutenant?" Coherence left her once again, as her tardy memory began creeping back up to meet her.

She remembered their little moment a few hours (days?) back, and his lips. She remembered his lips—her _lieutenant's lips—_on hers. His mouth, hot and shapely and concerned, had been—Oh Christ. The not-so-subtle flirtation and the sideways glances had all led up to that moment hadn't it?

As much as she didn't want such thoughts in her head at the moment, she couldn't, she _couldn't _force them from her mind. Especially with _Lee _out there probably hurting and alone and her mother and her father and and... And no. _Oh, no._

Tenten forced her eyes open, and with it spat out the remaining few millimetres of liquid still contained in her mouth. The admittedly stupid motion had caused her to blush, and with it she shot up to apologise.

Alas, unfortunate circumstances lead to her forehead bumping against something hard (his skull?). She heard the soft crunch of snow and soil as Neji set the canteen on the ground, and readily awaited the sharp haul back and the scorn that was sure to glower from his slim face.

But he didn't draw back. He didn't draw back, and her head was beginning to ring from the impact. He was looking at her with those eyes—not with contempt, she knew. It was something else. Something akin to—well, Tenten wasn't quite sure she was willing to admit just _what. _Yet, deep down it was as clear as day and blunter than... well, she didn't know. Blunter than Lee in his favourite green outfit in a crowd on a Saturday, she guessed.

Aw, shit. _Lee._

Tenten pulled—or, tried to pull—away from her commanding officer, but found herself stuck. She couldn't move because he was touching the nape of her neck and holding her in place. There was no denying it now.

Her head throbbed and she wondered if she was dead. Otherwise, why had she seen those visions of her family, her friends, why the heck was she seeing two Nejis at once, and why on earth was he so darned _close? _And how did that collision not _hurt _him?

She was also pretty sure his hands were somewhere they shouldn't have been, and that her own fingers were making their way to meet and entangle themselves through his.

"Ow," she grunted. Tenten gulped. "Sir?"

And oh, for the love of Pete, she didn't have time for this. Her heart didn't have the _capacity _for this! She—she...

Tenten blinked, trying to catch him between her eyes. She called him again, but no answer came singing back in reply. Not until Neji's indistinct image took in a deep intake of breath.

"Tenten," he finally answered. In her blurred and hazy state, she could barely see his eyelids squeeze shut. "As of now I want there to be no formalities between us. No more of this 'sir' and 'lieutenant', those titles are dead to me. I've failed you, I've failed the squad and I don't deserve to be acknowledged as your leader."

"Why don't you leave this for later when I've actually sobered up?" she moaned, head still pressed against his. She felt herself flushing, though it was a commonly accepted fact that it alcohol's side-effects that were the main culprit, and _not_ how nice his face looked then. She once again swallowed, sliding down and back up as she did so.

"I wanted to make it known to you is all," Neji breathed, warm breath sliding down the neck of her shirt. "I _am_ sorry for allowing all those atrocities to occur. The world... it sorely lacks fine young men like Naruto... and Lee."

"I know," she said. Oh, how her chest _burned._ "But it isn't your fault. You're smart, so you know that, right?"

"Ten—"

"Neji," she murmured, trying out the sound of his name. "Just Neji. Neji. I'll have to get used to that."

She smiled, the muscles around her mouth strong and robust. Neji's lacked a fair bit less power than hers and was wobbly at best, but he managed one all the same.

His fingers wrung taut around hers. "And I wanted to—"

"It's okay. I know."

"T-truly?" he stammered. Tenten, instead of the usual drawing back, thrust forward so that her nose was flat against his cheekbone.

"Yeah. But that'll just be our little secret, won't it?"

* * *

Neji guided her arm across his shoulders as he stood her up. He couldn't help but smile at his milestone achievement, however inappropriate it would seem.

"I'm fine," said Tenten as she wobblingly arose from the snow. The astounding unsteadiness was an interesting mixture of beer and ankle. "I don't need your help."

Her lieutenant rolled his eyes. If she didn't need help, then why was she holding on to him so tightly?

"Our destination awaits us not far from here. It'd be pointless to hinder our progress simply because _you _felt like giving yourself an ego boost."

"Such an arse," she murmured. "Why do you have to be such an arse, Neji? You were one of the jerkiest damn... devils I'd ever met. Have been since day one... _especially _day one. Say, why exactly were you such a meanie, then?"

"That day I had a particularly sour row with my uncle," Neji said, hitching his arm over her as they headed up a curve in terrain. Yes, he remembered that day quite vividly.

"Oops," she said. "I guess I shouldn't have asked."

"Mmm."

Besides a few huffs on Tenten's part, nothing was said until they had passed the obstacle that was the heap of sludgy white-brown soil.

Having departed quite a few hours after their attempt at getting utterly wasted, Neji and Tenten stumbled (well, Tenten limped while Neji stumbled) their way back to their comrades. The spitting headache still stayed, but all in all, Tenten's condition was clearing and her mind growing increasingly abstemious.

"I'm going to have a chat with the division leader, if you don't mind, Tenten."

Tenten nodded. Neji turned his back, stepped forward, turned back to Tenten, and tried smiling. Although somewhat surprised by the kind gesture, Tenten couldn't help but do the same.

Crawling into their trench, Tenten overheard the hushed sounds of conversation between two familiar voices, one distinctively male and the other alarmingly soft and pleasantly feminine.

"What were you thinking, Hinata? I told'ja to be a good girl, f'me didn't I? Stay safe an' outta trouble! It ain't hard!"

"And why are you here, Kiba?" the female retaliated. "Y-you ran away from your family and left your poor mother and sister to fend for themselves!"

Ah, that was Hinata. Only Tenten had never heard her sound so angry, so defiant and bold before.

...But on second thought _why the hell was she here?_

"I only did it 'cause not only did I wanna to protect them, but _you_ too!" And that was Fang, only Hinata called him by some other unfamiliar name. Tenten wondered why, so she strained to keep listening to their speeches, forever growing dimmer. She tried to grasp the little secrets that they exchanged but she couldn't.

On the way there she had already been drifting in and out of sleep. With the distant chatter of voices, she finally succumbed to her fatigue.

* * *

_How was the NejiTen? Was it out of place, too cheesy, unrealistic, not enough development gone into it? I thought I didn't go to enough effort to portray Tenten's side of the romantic relationship, and that just sucks. From many months of writing mostly genfic, my uh, romance-writing abilities are covered in rust. Any criticism you guys might have would be really nice. Just give me a shout out, and if enough people hate how the chapter ended up, I'll be more inclined to do an extensive polishing once the fic is completed._

_I've begun fusing a lot of these chapters from my drafts... This was a mix of two plus a fair bit more, __**then **__split because while the latter portion was rough on the edges, I felt I owed you guys an update already. I hope you guys forgive me for that. It would take too long otherwise to complete (I would be completely stumped on filling out the remaining length of the chapters), and be really tiny updates to boot. This __**may**__ one of the last "timely" updates you'll be getting... I possibly have 5+ assignments to do (I really don't want to count them) in the upcoming few weeks... but the next 3 chapters or so are more or less are nigh on completion, and I've always been known to bludge badly under homeworkal stress, so... But still. Don't expect any updates within days of each other._


	22. Bloodshed

_Bloodshed_

**A VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT****: **I'm going on a hiatus again, so here's your belated update. Sorry guys, but that's just what exam week does to you. Updates in a maximum of three weeks later, I hope. Year ten sucks balls through a garden hose.

* * *

"Wake up, champ!" a familiar voice beckoned nearby. Tenten rubbed her eyes.

Fang—No. What was it that Hinata had called him? _Kiba._

"Nnn," was all she could manage; a thousand thoughts rushed through her head, _still _throbbing from the last night where she'd—

"I was starting to miss you!" Fang cracked a smile, and took her in a hug. Tenten was lethargic in his arms, because she was tired from her trip and shocked by the elaborate lie he had weaved for himself.

"Kiba?" she asked confusedly.

"Eh?" he chuckled, humour diminishing, "Aw, fuck off."

Hinata's gaze remained rooted to the ground.

"I know it's none of my business, but I couldn't help but overhear you and this um, new recruit," she continued. She disregarded his budding friction and Hinata's obvious embarrassment. Tenten eyed her for mere seconds and confirmed her gender right away, after a good rub around the lids. "Hinata, it's you isn't it?"

"She—I-I mean _he,"_ Fang said. He was trying to cover for her, but failed miserably.

Hinata frowned, most probably realising her friend's efforts would fall short of his goal. "Is it... that easy to tell?"

Tenten put her hand up to her head. "I don't know. I only recognise you because I _know _you. The others mightn't be able to tell."

"Oh," she said, obviously disheartened. "Ki—I mean Fang could see through it, too."

"I—um..." Fang was obviously lost for words; he'd always been a little tongue-tied in the Hyuuga's presence.

"But oh... Neji isn't going to be happy about this," she groaned. Her head still hurt from the alcohol, her stomach was doing somersaults, and Neji was just returning from whatever it was he was doing. "Speaking of which, here's the man himself."

Maybe Tenten was hearing things, but she swore that she heard the slightest _eep _from Hinata.

"What're you going to do, Hinata?"

Hinata tried to make herself smaller, folding her limbs in and hiding behind Fang, who shielded her from view.

"We head out, _now,_" he announced, facial expression perfectly grim, "Backup has come—medics have arrived, and the tanks are advancing as we speak."

He seemed to miss Hinata the first time around, a surprising thing given his impeccability, but also a reasonable one. As perfect as he tried to be, Neji Hyuuga was still human and it would be worrying otherwise that he would still be so goddamned faultless after all they'd been through. And besides, his eyes quickly rebounded to the quivering patch of hair under one of Fang's arms the second time around.

"You," he said. "You're new."

"U-um... I uh—"

Neji inhaled deeply, a visible frown twisting his mouth. And Neji never showed any outward anger unless he had _truly _been provoked to such a display. "I'd recognise that voice anywhere." Neji's face dropped into his hands. "Hinata, why do you do this?"

"I—"

"Retreat, now," he growled. "This is a serious matter, Hinata. You've got nothing to prove. Men, they die—"

This time Hinata took in a lungful of air.

"Don't you think I know that?" she retaliated, palms open in askance. Her speech was taking up that weird rhythm and gaining speed, just like it always did when Hinata had been asked to take such a stand. Fang cowered while Tenten watched on, noticeably shaken. "And I'm tired of just standing by, no more than just an obstacle in the way! He—_he_ wouldn't have done that. _He_ would have done something, _anything!_"

Tenten cringed; a great disturbance was perturbing her abdomen. Hinata's words made that day one of the few where she had regretted ever leaving home. So did Fang, though he had even more reasoning behind it.

"But don't just stand by, Hinata. You're not an obstactle," Tenten said, softly, "You're saving _lives _every day."

"Yeah, Ryuu's right!" Fang echoed, swallowing his envy. He placed an arm around Hinata's shoulders. "We care about you's all."

Neji held no comment, simply glaring at the girl.

"_Please, _Neji," she pleaded. "Please."

"Not this time." Neji drew from his bag a pistol and placed it in her hand. "And I cannot escort you back at the present time. My men, they—"

"I'll look after her!" Fang suggested with his arm raised in the air. Neji frowned.

"No. We march," were his final instructions as Neji stormed off with his cousin closely following his trail.

* * *

"S'pose I owe you the truth then," Kiba muttered. His eyes darted to and fro as he watched his beloved quietly argue with her cousin some metres away.

"So you're going to finally tell me why've you been calling yourself 'Fang' all this time then?" she said, pushing up her kit, "It seems really weird to me."

"Yeah," Kiba breathed. He looked nervous and almost guilty. "Mum scared off dad when I was a kid, and we were never the same since. Come war and she and sis wouldn't lemme go. But I wanted to protect 'em, be there for Hinata and defend my country. That so wrong?"

Tenten shrugged. "You didn't have to make a sob story out of it. Your life was a goddamn soap opera, man."

"Yeah, well I've done stuff. Stuff I ain't too proud of." Kiba tried to hide his face before stopping in his tracks and dropping Akamaru, who was enjoying a good scratch behind the ears.

"But you do deserve to know, I guess," he began, inspecting with rutted brows his clenched fist, "I hit her, okay? I threw a few things, yelled at her an' told her I wasn't ever coming back, that she scared me off just like she scared off pops. And I don't know why I did it. Maybe cause the kids at school'd been teasin' me about my family an' I wasn't havin' any of it. So I changed my name, I couldn't—"

"Kiba. You're an idiot, but I'm sure that's not what you meant," she said. Her sympathy showed, unlike the response Kiba had expected. "So when this war's over you go home and you tell her that you're sorry, hear?"

In a rare moment when Kiba dropped his facade of masculinity, he began to sob (but only loud enough so she could hear) as they slogged to the top of another hill.

"An' who're you to be tellin' me that? Weekly author of Ask Annie?" he spat rhetorically with a rather loud sniff. "She wouldn't want a fuck-up son like me anyway."

"You trust me, Kiba; as long as your mother loved you once, she can't... she can't _unlove _you," said Tenten, for lack of a better word.

"But what if I don't survive this? What if none of us do?" Kiba cried. Tenten smiled, reaching into her sleeve to fish out some slightly crumpled paper.

"Take this. Write her a letter. Lieutenant Neji'll be happy to send a word in to deliver it for you, won't you, boss?" she proclaimed rather loudly so Neji could hear her from further on ahead. Her face broke into an emotional smile, and turning his head around, Neji gave a small nod.

Kiba gingerly took the sheet of paper with gratitude. "Thank you."

"And besides," she added, patting him on the back, "you won't die. No one else'll die."

* * *

After several tens of minutes spent in deep discussion with Neji, Hinata was able to return to Kiba and Tenten's sides. The joy on her face reminded her of the sickening anticipation she herself had when she first set out on that journey, and it made her feel ever so uneasy.

"He'll send me back after the day is o-over," she announced. Her voice was satisfied, and her eyes proudly showcased that pride.

Kiba could not say much, because though he thoroughly enjoyed her company, he was doubtful. So very doubtful.

"That's great," Kiba and Tenten mumbled in unison.

* * *

At fourteen-hundred hours Shino bellowed from behind. It was the first time anyone had heard him yell (let alone speak), and a few other screams from the division also confirmed the imminent attack.

"Incoming fire!" was the message they all conveyed. The last to duck was Hinata, who only did so after Kiba had taken her hand and pulled her down. Akamaru had already run off himself to check out the noise, directly disobeying Kiba's pleas for him to stay.

Shino, who was two steps ahead of everyone else, had already shot down two enemy units before anyone could move.

Neji sprinted to the left, and many followed after him. The whole division spiralled into turmoil.

Tenten sprang right into a bush and began sniping at anything she saw. Shikamaru flocked to the left wing, and continued to strategise as he made fairly lazy attempts at trying to shoot anyone. But Chouji, who was more enthusiastic than he, stood over his friend, covering him as he unleashed all hell with his machine gun.

Kiba took Hinata's arm, shooting with his other hand. He tried to get her somewhere safe, but she struggled and attempted to contribute to the battle.

"Hinata! Stay here where you'll be safe!" he roared over the exchanges of ammunition.

"No!" Hinata loosened Kiba's grip on her. "You let me go, Kiba Inuzuka!"

"But you'll—"

"Is there a really a difference whether I'm out there or over here?" she screamed through the gunfire. Kiba grimaced as he felt something bite into his arm. It hurt like nothing he'd ever known before, and in his razing confusion he simply nodded.

"Fine! Just stay close to me," he moaned, arm over his hurting shoulder. Hinata nodded, slight, and charged the enemy with a hurried sprint.

An expression of pain etched across Kiba's countenance as she shuffled away from the confines of his arms. He watched her spinning, spinning away from him like the cold-blooded Hyuuga lady she was, her poor body feeding the enemy bullets.

Hinata's supposed death played out like one in some Western movie, complete with slow motion. Firs,t she was hit in left shoulder. It extracted from her a shrill cry, and sent her tumbling to the ground. Her helmet was caught up in the sudden impetus and was flung off her head. The distinguishing, luscious hair flowed out, and Kiba knew she had been hiding stars in them. Water glistened off her cheeks, and blood spurted against the melting snow. Another shot pierced her collarbone, and placed her on the verge of ascension.

Then, Kiba's response was achingly slow. He wanted to pick her up and carry her away from all that madness but his limbs had turned to stone. Whatever had hit his arm had numbed down, now, and it was nothing compared to _this_.

But as soon could move again, Kiba was on his knees in an unspoken dirge, holding her torso up with his fingers tight around her shoulders.

"I told you! Told you to stay close to me," Kiba cried, shaking her dying body, "Hi—Hinata..."

"I-I'm..." she whispered, neck twisting towards him so he could see a flicker of her gray, fading eyes. "I'm awfully sorry..."

In the distance, Kiba could hear the sounds of the lieutenant, screaming, "Medic! _Medic!"_

Then the enemy must have seen the bloody hair pooled against white snow, and knew it was a woman for the aforementioned foe had ceased fire and slowly retreated after some time.

The medics Neji had summoned finally arrived, and carried off the barely breathing Hinata back for treatment. That is, if she had survived the bullets. And, since the battle had been unofficially won due to forfeit, it was then the soldier's duty to collect the corpses. Only this time around, no one was getting left behind.

Instead of his performing his duty, however, Kiba up and scrambled the opposite way.

The first to notice him was observant Tenten, who called out to him, questioning him on why the hell was running off like that.

"Oi! Where're you going?" she called after him. "You've been _shot!"_

"To rip off the face of those cunts!"

Tenten stopped dead in her tracks. "Whoever the hell do you mean?"

"Her bastard cousin, her bastard father, all the bastard people who let her—"

"Hey, look here, buddy!" Tenten walked up to him again, and pulled on his sleeve as soon as she could reach him. "You don't blame people who've only tried their best to help out. They're no less as fault than _you_ are!"

"Don't try to defend them!" Kiba barked. He raised his fist to her. "Let me _by_, pretty boy."

"Oh, you wanna take me on now, huh? Not very smart considering you're beat up real bad."

"If I have to, alright? Now back off; I've got lives to fuck up," he warned.

She refused to, and evoked a terrible wrath within Kiba.

The attack wouldn't have had such an impact if she was ready for it, but with a hard rib-punch and a relentless blow to the jaw, Tenten was writhing with pain on the hoary floor. She coughed, but Kiba continued his relentless rampage and stepped in for another hit. Before he could strike however, Tenten had swept under his legs to drag him down with her.

She struggled over and landed a few blows to him on the head before he could regain dominance and stick another punch on her gut. His action was negated however as soon as Neji caught up to the pair, calling the brawl off.

"That is enough! Fang—Kiba—you aren't to touch her, is that clear? We're fighting a _war, _here, not amongst ourselves! And as for you..."

"Wait, wait, _wait." _Kiba lifted himself back up from the snow. "Her?"

Tenten stood up then with an ache at her side. She then dusted off her uniform. She had quite a bit of explaining to do, thanks to Mr. Hyuuga, it seemed. Inhaling deeply, Tenten prepared herself for the backlash, the somersaults still revolving in her stomach.

Shikamaru, who had watched from the sidelines their little brawl, rolled his eyes.

He'd figured it out as early as the first day of camp. "She's a woman," he answered. "And probably a troublesome one at that, just like the rest of 'em."

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **__Good news? I'm back after one commerce test, one geography test and assignment, one Japanese test, one Japanese assignment, one English assignment, one maths test, two history tests and one history assignment. _

_Also, (__**shameless self promotion**__) I've started up a __**new story**__, titled __**Apocalypse Please. **__It's a collection of NejiTen apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic stories (some are oneshots, others span chapters, but all are standalone), and so far I've got one grand chapter up starring Tenten and a wonderfully OOC Neji in the midst of the crazy apocalypse that will be continued in another part. In the future there will be android!Neji (if that doesn't sound sexy I don't know what will) and all different kinds of doomsdays, so come have a look or make suggestions. I'll take requests! And to be honest that one is so much more fun than writing About a Heroine, as they're more episodic and thus easier to handle. Plus I'm trying out a new style with those, so check it out/read/vote/request/complain if you'd like!_

_Bad news? Very brief editing with this chapter. Also, I'm going on a hiatus because although assignment week is over I have an exam week coming up soon. So it's studystudystudy time. And I compressed the timeline again._


	23. Respite

_Respite_

Kiba's mouth had hung agape for a while. A million questions bubbled in his mind ten at a time, and when it was finally time for his brain to command his tongue to move and to _speak_, he had nothing to say. Kiba was shocked, disgusted, angry, confused and most of all, broken, and the only thing left for him to do was exit the scene with the corners of his eyes suspiciously wet.

"I'm gonna find Akamaru," he'd said, after he shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his back to make himself small.

* * *

Tenten had moved to go after him, but Chouji kept her back with his hand on her shoulder and a shake of his head.

"No, Ryuu—" Chouji advised, gulping, "—I mean, T-Tenten. I think it's best if we just leave him for now."

She turned to meet that once round face—though his chin was half the size it once was, his smile was still warm and hearty as it had ever been. Because it'd been revealed that she was indeed a woman, Tenten had expected some kind of change in the way they looked at her, but Chouji was exactly the same as before.

Tenten wanted to ask him if anything had changed now, but it was the wrong time and place to be so selfish, and she knew that well enough to keep her mouth shut. Her friends seemed to think that too, because once she'd taken a brief look around they did not look too uncomfortable and acceptant of the news.

Chouji was still Chouji. Shino appeared as usual, nonchalant. Shikamaru had known all along, and it never appeared to bother him. So she guessed it didn't really matter after all.

What did matter, though, was Hinata. The immediacy of her supposed death was shocking, and the open wounds still stung all of them with a persistent ache in the heart.

* * *

In the hours following end of skirmish's end, night fell and there came that mutual treaty of sleep, where the only attempts at conflict included a half-hearted attempt at a mortar or two. But even that was for show, and if those bombs ever hit _anybody_, it was usually an accident or a lazy fumble of the fingers.

Kiba returned during that time, with fresh lacerations all over, no excuses and an injured Akamaru in his arms. He'd spoken to no one, let no one touch the dog, and retreated into his own little world the other men thought it was best to keep out of.

After that there'd been discussion—since they had the tanks now—on whether or not the soldiers were to march on to enemy headquarters instead of "wasting time". A few select lieutenants and captains rose up to that argument, and _thank god_ won the soldiers more time for rest. They deserved it, and more importantly was dying for it.

They set up camp once again, tank commanders switching turns to keep watch, and all foot soldiers nestled comfortably (as comfortable as abandoned trenches could be, anyway) behind them in leftover troughs.

* * *

Predictably, Shikamaru was always the first to fall asleep, and he was followed quickly by Chouji.

Forlorn Kiba set himself far from the group, though his snores could still be heard even from that far away.

You could never tell about Shino behind those dark shades, though his rhythmic respiration and slumped position pretty much gave it away.

The only two in a close radius that happened to be awake were a weary Tenten and Neji. They shuffled just a little away from their unconscious friends, or otherwise their conversation would be confined to a certain volume and caution so that their comrades were not disturbed. They were in the mood for a talk and Neji for some hard liquor; however Tenten didn't want a bleeding hangover again (she'd not even recovered from the first), while at the same time would not have Neji drinking alone. And so he unhappily put the flask back where it belonged and dug into his pocket to find something else to share. He wasn't really frowning, it was more of slight sag that had settled in after the little hours of sleep and heartbreak all bundled into a single dynamite week.

There was a rather loud crumpling noise as Neji conducted a thorough search in each of his pouches. The majority of them had nothing but rubble in them, but ultimately his efforts proved to be not entirely in vain, for he had found an unopened block of milk chocolate sitting in the bottom of his kit. He offered the sweet to her silently, though the shape of the thing was difficult to make out under such a dark night. She could only guess that he had something good by the way his brows slanted and the way the foil made such a sound.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"Just some chocolate," he replied softly.

Tenten shook her head aggressively. But in truth, she wanted nothing more to bite into that soft cocoa and relish the tang of sugar in her mouth. Alas, once you'd had a sample of the stuff it would be difficult to keep from asking for more, even if it was impossibly hard to nibble.

"There'll be a riot if anyone finds out about this," Neji muttered. He simply disregarded her strong reaction, pressed a finger to his lips and snapped the bar in two. He forced one half in her hand, and torpidly chewed on his own. With this Tenten decided to give in and simply accept the gift with gratitude.

"This is good chocolate," she said. The texture and the taste were perfect, unlike the army standard rations that felt like biting a brick once you'd tried to eat it. She was sure there was more than one case in which a soldier had lost his tooth to the vindictive treat. "Where'd you get it from?"

"Uncle Hiashi had some imports left." Neji stopped chewing for a moment. She could see the edges of his face constrict into a scowl. Neji let out a long sigh. A large cloud of mist managed to escape his mouth every time he breathed acutely as he did now. "How will I be able to tell him?"

Tenten directed her head towards him; she knew he spoke of Hinata. "He'll know. You won't have to tell him, the infirmary will do it for you."

"She was my only friend," Neji explained to Tenten. He sounded strange, as if introducing the process of multiplication to toddler. It seemed that Neji thought no one really _understood_ him. This was entirely untrue, however, and he paused when he saw the displeasure mounted on Tenten's face. "But I suppose that that isn't necessarily true?" The remark was not a statement, but a question.

"No, it isn't. You've got the team," she pointed out to him. "And besides, she could be alive and well for all we know."

Neji put considerable thought into what he said next, creating a rather unsettling period of silence between the two.

"And you?" he asked, voice almost timid in approach.

"Well, I'm part of the team, aren't I?" she laughed.

Tenten's hand brushed past Neji's as an invitation for him to hold it. She was soon met with a response as Neji quickly went ahead and constricted his fingers around hers. They drew tighter until their knees and shoulders were pressed up close against each other.

Furtively and gradually, Tenten's forehead had suddenly become dangerously close to Neji's cheek. And there in the dark she swore she felt a solitary droplet spill from his eyes, lonesome and crestfallen.

What was once the smooth fragrance of expensive cologne had undeniably been replaced by what could only be the smell of sweat and blood. Every breath was amplified, the tiniest motion a great leap... He had that stare on her again, she was sure. The reason for their behaviour, now, was suddenly so conspicuous it was silly she would have ever thought it otherwise. From the day he had discovered her true identity to their not-so-accidental kiss just the day before.

Once she'd gently gathered the courage to lift her hand unto his face, she noticed that his once austerely shaven jaw was populated with pleasantly prickly, short stubble. And once she touched him, Neji had never felt so much life than there that night, huddled in the trenches.

* * *

By the time Shikamaru had checked over the sleeping figures of Neji and Tenten, it became strikingly obvious they had become what they had become: something of a romantic nature. But it wasn't any of his business and Shikamaru wasn't the kind of folk to butt into other folk's affairs. Shikamaru didn't dare to wake the pair up, and only shook his head. He took a large puff from his cigarette.

The week had been a total fuck-up, and he guessed some people dealt with it differently than others. Kiba had resorted to isolation while Sasuke had to... death? Whatever it was, Shikamaru's own solace was found in a good helping of nicotine and a generous helping of strong whisky. He could only hope that their little get-together was no more than Neji and Tenten's way of comforting each other, or they would both be in for a world of hurt.

A fuzzy static message played over Shikamaru's radio, suddenly cutting off his trail of thought. It was the General Hyuuga's distorted voice, making an important announcement for all to listen. Too bad the whole division was pretty much asleep.

It could be said that Shikamaru didn't show enough respect as he disregarded the fact that was talking to a far superior officer. He was casual and even dismissive in tone the whole way though the conversation, though this didn't keep the general from keeping his polite manner of speech.

"Son, the battle is over. Look toward the horizon, m'boy! See that beautiful white flag in the distance? Can't you smell the victory?

"The ninth battalion's got em, we've won!"

Hiashi sounded almost tipsy and without even an inkling regarding his daughter's death. Shikamaru scowled, but did as he was told and levelled his head to meet that glorious white flag. Then he guessed it was time to inform the lieutenant of their victory (as empty as it was).

"Oi, lovebirds, you've been sleeping for long enough." Shikamaru marched to the spot where his superior and his fellow soldier lay, kicking the two behind the sheet. Not so much that it'd bruise them, though (they would've had enough already). "Something's up."

Neji was the first to arise, long hair matted in the front of his face. He drew the black locks back from his head, squinting from his sudden exposure to the light.

"Wha-what is it, Shikamaru?"

"Well, we've won," Shikamaru announced, rather plainly.

"Oh." Neji seemed almost disappointed. "Most wonderful."

* * *

There was a noticeable a shift in how they marched now, besides the flip of direction. Adrenaline had once flowed generously through the men. There was that strong sense of patriotism, the desire to protect their loved ones and a righteousness that was gained from banishing the intruders of their homeland. Those feelings now faded, subsided because they no longer applied to them.

In other words, the men had lost all that they were living for until then. They were right to act so; they'd been denied proper living standards for a while now and still, the war had not ended. The battle was won, but their trials were anything but over.

The horrific week was nothing but a small portion of the bigger picture. It was most likely they'd now be shipped off to some far exotic land; fall in love with its sense of adventure, renew their friendships with their brethren, only to have the same thing happen to them all over again, until the cylindrical concept of war ended. And who knew when that would be, if ever?

* * *

_**Note the slight modification in penname. **_

_This was originally a sexy chapter that branched into a completely different plot. I felt that that wouldn't fit (it would stuff up the pace), though, so I removed it and kept their relationship as is. On another random note, third person subjective or third person omniscient? I'd like to think this fanfiction works according to the latter._

_Okay, I'm late. Very fricken late as in my first draft was from November last year that was much longer, but cut down because of modifications to plot. I'm going to start an original uh, 'novel' um, soon, which means I've got to get this fic out of the way. Wish me luck! It's nearly next term, and hopefully I'll have better time management then. _

_I'll give you a hint and say that we're currently about three fourths through the adventure..._


	24. Proposal

_Proposal_

The dreams that occupied Lee's mind often involved a pink haired nurse called Sakura. She picked him wildflowers while he convalesced in his bed and Lee had held her high in regard since the first time she game to replace his dressings. She always seemed a bit melancholy, faraway when she spoke to him, but she spoke in the most adorable way possible, so it was worth it whenever she decided to grace him with her presence. It also helped that she was gentle with her hands, and had a smile that brightened up the whole room for Lee.

For most of what he saw of her, Sakura was a friendly girl, although she did have the odd bicker with another nurse named Ino, who Sakura claimed was her friend. Still, the root of those arguments seemed to be of some deep-rooted childhood rivalry, and more often or not the girls would make up afterwards.

It was not long ago that Lee had heard word of Naruto's admittance, and too soon after the day that he died. Sakura had come in with the whites of her eyes red, laid her head on the end of his bed, and they cried with him till the next morning. In that first moment she had broken right in front of his eyes, Lee knew that he had seen her somewhere before.

He thought back to his days in the trenches, the hospital, the days they spent at camp, huddled beside a fire with Naruto, and he remembered. He remembered Sakura wedged in Naruto's wallet, and Naruto's grand tales of her rose-tinted hair and marvellous beauty, which was very much accentuated in the single monochrome picture he saw. But she looked so different now, like nothing in the photograph. And then again, she had been a young girl who had left her hair long and no stain of human cynicism, no doubt, no blood on her waiflike face. Though the picture was rendered in differing shades of black and white, she had more colour in her face in that very photo than she had there, right in front of his eyes. She was full of hope and love and happiness and now, she was a woman no less beautiful, but worn beyond her years with the saddest a pair of eyes in the world.

Green like the passages of spring, Lee dreamed—how he _dreamed_—of those two eyes in the midst of her soft pink hair. He shouldn't have, for Naruto's sake, but the only thing his conscious could even remotely offer him was guilt in the wake of the honey-sweet phantasmagoria, a wretched pain in his heart and his head in his hand. Though he was nothing but a cripple now, Lee dreamed of courting her, of his two legs carrying them both off into the sunset, of tightening his fingers around that hair, her breasts and following her into her room to do the things that he'd ever only practised with Tenten.

And dear Tenten! More often than not, Lee also had dreams (nightmares) of Tenten dying in different ways: with her neck broken, with her limbs torn, from a shrapnel infection, by a gunshot and drowned, even. She could die a quick death, or a slow death, or even one where he would be forced to watch her corpse be dragged away and disposed of in the most macabre and disgusting shows of cruelty. Or deaths with which she was tortured beforehand. These were the worst sorts of nightmares of all, but it became the only way Lee could be close to her again. Lee's feelings for those lucid dreams came with a mix of gratitude—for his reunion with his childhood friend, and fury and disgust and fear and a thousand other things he needn't endure at that moment's pinnacle of grief. He just wasn't strong enough.

Lee jolted upright one bright morning from one of these when he heard the familiar sound of booted footsteps outside his ward's window. At first he could not hear what it was, that strange sound, but with a speck of time figured that it could only be the army on the return. He heard yells, battle cries, victory calls, and grief all in the one go—and then, the chatter of nurses around. They spoke of nothing but their companies' valiant victory by the beach.

Tenten and the boys would be back! With a rush of joy Lee motioned to clap, but realised with despair that he no longer had his left hand to clap with.

He was a cripple now. He shouldn't have kept on that want to see her. They'd promised to fight together, and die together, and he had let her down. He wasn't there to protect her when he promised her that he would—

Oh god, what if she, what if she!

_What if his dreams had suddenly become a reality?_

No, his shame and dishonour could wait. He needed to know if she was okay.

"Tenten!" he cried. He could feel his breath hitching, and it was if as some pitiless entity had ripped his lungs in two. He supported himself on his remaining arm, and pulled himself as close to the window as physically possible. With much apprehension, Lee scanned the crowd for Tenten. He looked for her distinctively feminine face, a single lady blossom among thousands of gentlemanly blooms, but there was no sign of her no matter where he looked. Here they were all the same: painted with the colour of grit and grime, bloody and smeared with handfuls of soil and sand and triumph and heartbreak.

But no matter the odds she had to be okay. She was with Lieutenant Neji, and entrusted to him there was no way he'd let that happen to her. If he had, Lee was going to kill him. He didn't know how he would do it with only one arm and one leg, but he'd figure out some way to do it.

Lee settled back in bed and tried to calm himself down. He tried to remember what it was Gai had always used to say.

"Always keep calm in an emergency, my youthful prodigy!" was it. "There will always be somebody else nearby who needs your help."

Lee thought harder, and another snippet of wisdom came to mind. "Remember, son, that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Until you reach that light, never give up!"

_Never give up_.

Lee could feel himself watering at his master's words. Oh, how he missed him! He missed him like a child without his mother's embrace. He missed home, he missed Tenten's parents, and most he missed Konoha to every last inch of the Curry of Life, to every last blade of grass, to every last leaf billowing atop her many boughs and branches.

How could Tenten have been so brave, so independent of all those things? She'd seldom bring up the topic of home, and Lee would be too afraid to do in her stead. It was as if the names of their beloveds back home had become a taboo code never to be spoken of, never heard and only mentioned in fleeting thoughts of the depraved psyche.

Lee wondered if Gai had ever written him. It'd been so long (a year, half?) since he heard from him, and it didn't seem like him to go so long without communication. Perhaps Gai's writing was simply too youthful, too bold to have been interpreted properly, and all his letters had been ending up in some the hands of another lucky soldier. Lee certainly hoped so and wished _hard_ that Gai had not given up on him or Tenten.

And why was it that he had not thought to write back home either? Lee felt darkness wrap itself around his heart. Maybe he really had been too tangled up in his fruitless adventures to care. Guild riddled him, but for now that he could write, Lee decided that he would write. He had the time and the resources to do so, and the only thing keeping him was the how he'd always been one to need two hands to write legibly.

Maybe it was in order for him to call Sakura back and have her write a letter for him? ...No, she had better things to do than listen to him ramble, and besides—

Lee heard wheels and footsteps down the hall. He almost thought it was Tenten who had come to see him for a second, but then he heard a loud nurse bellow and his hopes were trodden down in an instant. Lee tried to hear what she was saying, but he could not make out much.

"...Name's Hyuuga Hinata, and there's the strangest story with this 'un."

Hyuuga Hinata? But how could she...?

"Hyuuga? Why, she's one of our own!" a second voice exclaimed. This one was softer, calmer, and spoke with an accent vastly different to the other woman.

"Aye, one of our own. But did you know that once that—oh whatsit?"

"That Naruto character? Lovely, blithe young fellow."

"Yeah—Naruto, god bless. After he passed," she said, with a hushed emphasis on the word _passed_, "she took the kid's uniform—blood and holes and all, stole some of them guns and marched off to battle jus' like that!"

Lee swallowed the situation, and blinked dryly. What a girl, and he could imagine Tenten doing the very same thing.

"She's such a pretty young thing. Sweet, too. 'S a tragedy that something like this'd happen, love." The nurses were in sight now, and Lee could see that the loud voice belonged to a woman who was wide in the hips and hearty in the face. The other, with the soft voice, was shorter, but much thinner, and had a heart shaped face and spider-boned fingers. "A real shame."

They seemed to have acknowledged Lee. They mutually concluded their bit of gossip as they both looked to Lee.

"You, sir," the stout one addressed Lee. "Take good care of yer new neighbour, ay?"

Lee nodded sullenly, and looked across to his new neighbour. There were a few wolf whistles all around, but Lee knew there was something not quite right with her. Not with the way her chest was cloaked in bandages soaked with blood, but in her eyes.

Lee had never seen eyes so listless, so_ cold_.

* * *

In the pictorial sunlight of that effulgent noon, Lee's mind dipped between the realms of sleep and consciousness. He immediately assumed he would prefer the former to the latter, because Lee had long since tired of meandering thoughts concerning his dear friend. But when he thought back on it he changed his mind, for he had decided that the blunt blade of reality was no match for the dire desolation of his dreams.

Yet again when fraught with more thought, Lee seemed incapable of either. Without a tangible awareness of it, his eyes had lingered in the in-between of the two states, wherein his lips were chapped, and he was thirsty, oh so thirsty. They'd been short of water for a long while now. There was a glass on his bedside (or were there two?), alas it was empty. If only he could empty his mind into that cup and lap up that delicious water, his life could be complete. He would be complete.

Lee coughed, and opened his eyes to a kaleidoscope of colour. The room was filtered in rose and yellow washed over in that beautiful hazy hue. It was as if the room had been sprinkled with golden dust, brushed in every corner with Midas's touch, soaked with honey and poured inside a pinkish, rainbow-jewelled bottle that refracted the light of all that was in it.

"Tenten?" he called out of sheer desperation. This image was far too outlandish, too much like heaven, and he daren't call any other name. Yet after all he'd done, he was surprised at himself for not being any less guilty for summoning the one who he ought to have spared the burden. Perhaps it really was paradise here after all, and whoever it was that resided in that place beyond the beyond must have forgiven him for his misdeeds. Thank god.

"That you, Lee? Rock Lee?" someone said back. Lee did not expect an answer, and it was positively not Tenten. The voice was rugged and husky, and unquestionably male. Tenten couldn't pull off an act as genuine even if she had trained years for it. Lee could feel something jostle his hand, and something else, something soft, warm and fluffy, tickle his feet. "We served under the same platoon."

"Fang?" When Lee's vision cleared up and he was able to focus again, Lee took a good look at his face. This man was positively Fang; Lee could recognise those tattoos anywhere.

"Yes." A hint of canines showed as he smiled. "But would'ja think you'd be able to see me as 'Kiba' from now on?" Kiba requested of him politely.

Lee cocked his head, bedazzled by the unknown reasons in which his fellow countryman made his request. "If you do not mind me asking, might I please know why?"

"Long story short, Fang's been kinda my alias up till now." Kiba looked away, tragedy in his once wild eyes. That hint of wilderness was still there, but it had faded, tame, domesticated. "Kiba's my real name."

"Kiba," Lee repeated. Between Kiba and him, there was little self-consciousness Lee had felt towards his obvious disability, so he smiled. Because of that little smile, however, Kiba turned, unlocked his hand and busied himself with looking embarrassed.

"Don't get too full of yourself, Bushy-Brow!" Kiba hmphfed, and brought out a canteen of water. "And drink up. You look like hell."

He groped for that drink of water, and upon taking three large sips out of it allowed himself a sigh of pleasure. Lee's gaze then travelled to Akamaru to watch the pup nudge his nose against his toes.

"Thank you, Kiba! You are most—"

"Alright, alright!" Kiba crossed his arms. "Don't you even try to give us one of those bleedin' 'youth' pep talks again."

"But!"

"No buts!" Kiba scowled and reached his hand up to rub one of his own bloodstained, bandaged arms. "I was serious when I told'ja not to get fulla yourself. There's someone else here that I'd like to meet."

Kiba began to tap his feet, his eyebrows slanted, his lips thinned, and his whole body almost seemed to quiver.

"I heard that Hi-Hin," he said, attempting her name thrice, "H-Hinata—'member that sweet thing that dragged herself with us to the coast? I was told that she's gonna stay in this ward. And I'm here with ya now to wait for her."

"Hinata?" Lee said. "The young lady is just over there, behind that veil."

* * *

Lee had never seen a man besides old Gai, and himself cry as much as Kiba did when he pulled back the curtain, dropped to his needs and began to weep at the very sight of her—Hinata, the object of his desires and one of the best people he'd ever known. She lay there as limp as a fish, a conscious sleeping beauty and a monument to Kiba's supposed ineptitude.

For hours Kiba spoke to her in the softest way possible, and it struck some chord in Lee's heart to hear him coo to her like so. He used gentle words, gentle hands, and there was something eerily poignant with the way he sometimes ended his sentences with "_'kay?_", or smoothed his fingers to neaten her fringe or told her stories of long ago.

Of course, while Hinata was in pristine condition, as beautiful as she was before her battle wounds, she never responded to what Kiba would say. She did not move a single muscle in her body. Her eyes would stare fixedly straight, looking towards Kiba but not _at _him.

Akamaru whimpered with his nose by her motionless cheek and worried eyes for his master, who cried at her feet, cried in a chair across the room, cried silently propped up on his chin, cried curled up against his hands, sideways, loudly, softly, snottily and in any other way imaginable. He held Akamaru—who licked clean the salt on his cheeks—and bawled like a baby for so long that he didn't seem to have been weeping just for Hinata anymore. It was more as if he wept for all the sadness in the world, every misdeed, every evil it had ever known.

It soon reached a point where the gentlemen gathered around roused quite peeved, and sent lame insults flying across the room. While at first the men in the ward had empathised with Kiba, formed makeshift friendships with him and took turns petting Akamaru's cute little head, that hospitality would not have lasted forever.

Three hours in, even a doctor had to come in to explain the process for him. Lee, by now desperate for a visit himself, watched the two figures converse by the girl's bedside.

"We believe she may have fallen into a catatonic state," the doctor said. "She may—"

"Cata-_wha_?" Kiba cut in. Before the doctor could properly begin to explain, Kiba had already lost his patience and his temper. He even chucked his helmet across the room for emphasis. "Oh, fuck this! I fucking hate cats!"

Then that was when he scooped up Akamaru with one arm and stormed off with tears in his eyes again.

* * *

Unlike Hinata, Lee had to wait longer for any visitors to come see him.

It was nine o'clock at night when he saw Tenten for the first time in the longest period they'd ever been apart. She was the tiniest bit thinner, and worn like shattered china. Her hair was comparable to a bird's nest and her lips were chapped, like his. Because he had drunken that bit of water earlier in the day, and also because it was night-time, the room had lost its glow and now Tenten's face was almost blue, perhaps from the shadows that refracted off the walls.

She was, however, no less enthusiastic, and at heart still _his_ Tenten when she said his name and leapt onto him. Lee's heart swelled. She did so winsomely avoiding the areas on his skin burnt away from the mortar. Lee couldn't help but kiss her cheeks after she'd made a couple of quick pecks with his. With his remaining arm Lee took her up by the small of her back, and nuzzled his face against the crook of her neck.

"_Lee!_" she squealed.

"Tenten," Lee responded breathlessly. He spoke softly as to keep calm the other soldiers of the ward. "I have missed you so, blossom."

"And I've missed you." She sighed deeply, wound her arm behind Lee's neck, and they sat in silence like that for a good few seconds. Cutting to the chase after that slight pause, her voice dropped and she said, "Lee, I have something very important to ask of you."

"What's that?" he asked, lying back in his bed. Tenten wet her mouth before speaking. Lee wondered why. It was something he hadn't seen her do for years. The last time he encountered it was the night of their very first tryst, so there was no denying that the girl was about to propose something quite drastic.

"Yes?" he said. He didn't mind her abruptness, nor the mystery surrounding her absence for most the day. And Lee didn't ask, because the last thing he would want was for Tenten to feel awkward in his presence. Contrary to his predetermined expectations for her return, Lee did not feel himself to have been under a gaze of contempt or rage when he looked at Tenten. She looked sort of _sad_, instead, more riddled with guilt than he could ever be.

"Won't you marry me Lee?"

It hit him like a two-tonne truck; it was too abrupt, too sudden. What was it that compelled her to such a thing? Clearly Lee had not yet achieved complete lucidity. There were a million things to consider and—Was this another dream? Or a nightmare?

Lee laughed inwardly. Nonsense. She would never ask for anyone's hand in marriage, least of all his. Tenten would more likely be Mrs. Hyuuga tomorrow than his lawfully wedded wife a decade later.

"W-why Tenten, that—"

"We'll be shipped off soon."

"Where to?"

"I don't know." Tenten placed her hands on her lap and she looked away. "But I promise that I'll try and be a good wife when I do come back. I will come back. And I know I can't cook or sew or anything like that but I know you better than anyone in the world, Lee. That's something."

Lee laughed and placed his fingers upon her forehead, focusing on as being as gentle as he could with them. "I vowed once before that I would never be burden to anyone, least of all you, Tenten. I could under no circumstances place such a weight on your shoulders."

"What are you talking about?"

She smiled at him as his hand went on to touch her cheek.

"You are exceedingly kind, and so very beautiful, Tenten. A most splendid lotus blossom in the springtime, truly. I am sure many would be proud for you to have been their wife. But I beg of you, do not lie to me," he said. Lee didn't stop smiling. Her compassion truly touched him so. "Who would want a cripple for a husband?"

"You know that isn't...! That I would never—" she said. With a pause she realised what was keeping him from agreeing. "You've got someone in mind for the job already, huh?"

Lee winced and turned from her. Damn her.

"Look at it this way, Lee. I'll tell you the truth. Who else would make me their wife? I'm a killer. I don't even know how many I've killed. Who are you kidding? I am not for your floral metaphors or whatever. Not anymore. No one would love a wild thing like me. Only you would, Lee, and you already _have_.

"I just want to look after you we could just be married without the..."

Lee's of a response he figured was enough. "I am sorry, but perhaps I will consider it."

Tenten sighed as if she had already expected his response to her quite literal proposal and clasped her freezing cold hand in his.

"Then would you do a favour for me?"

"Anything."

"I know I don't deserve you, but would you wait for me?"

"Of course I will."

"And if I die, would you find me and scatter my ashes by that oak tree?"

"Tenten!" Lee's stomach curled. "Tenten, you cannot speak so seriously about such a matter!"

"Well, the war's anything but over."

"But I thought—"

"We're finished here. But it's still the same—and worse, everywhere around the world. Life's still gonna be a living hell for years to come, even after the war ends there's still hundreds of battles to fight and millions of friends to die."

* * *

_After I'd killed Hinata off once already, I just couldn't do it again to her._

_Late update, yes. A big thank you to everyone who have stuck. I intended to post this chapter yesterday, but I ran out of time and thought I needed a more extensive edit. Reading it over at one in the morning now, it's actually less drafted than I remember it. It's still a bit more rough than I would like it to be, so I'll probably come back and edit._

_A couple more chapters and this baby'll be one the way to that COMPLETE tag._


	25. Departure

_Departure_

Neji had known of the fleet's arrival and the emergency back-up for weeks. Those ships had been waiting in the wings, and if they did not overtake the beach themselves the navy would have come in and pulverised the bastards for them. Fortunately, their objective had been fulfilled and their mission here had "succeeded". Still, Neji simply couldn't bring himself to tell his men that. He didn't need to be ordered not to. He had already figured that the announcement would have made them less focused, distracted and sadder than the sky without the sun. Perhaps if he _had_ told them, none of them would be alive now to tell the tale.

He had grown increasingly attached to what was left of his platoon, even that dead, idiot buffoon and his would-be lover. He had learned to love over-enthused Lee, Shikamaru, who was too clever for his own good, Chouji and the kind heart behind his stomach. Shino Aburame was still and always had been a mystery to him, but Neji had always held a grudging respect towards the man, whose glare was harsher than any Hyuuga's, even behind those dark sunglasses. He didn't like to admit it, especially not to himself, but he had also developed a soft spot for the tattooed boy and his little dog that he sometimes scratched behind the ears.

Then there was Kakashi, and Asuma... For some of them they'd been separated from either by death, other's random happenstance or even from taking a wrong fork in the road that separated them. Neji often wondered how they were doing.

And Tenten, oh god, _her._ The last time he saw her she was that morning when she had spent her time shovelling corpses in the rain. The last time he spoke to her was perhaps two days ago, before she went to visit Lee in the abbey. And the last time he thought of her was just now, when he'd supposed that she had spent the night their cooing her friend to sleep.

But he did not like to think of her. He did not like to think of her because she was the face of everything he was yet to lose. And he was to lose her; because he was one of the officers who were commanded to stay back to recoup their army's loses and she one of the privates off to do more of the war's dirty work. In the near future she would be out there, somewhere on the other side of the world, mopping up blood with her rotting feet, trying to compose herself amongst the boys who fucked in brothels, watching rats fester and children slaughtered and women butchered and raped right before her eyes. If she were to survive physically the rest of this war, the essence of Tenten would not. She would be a different person. No one came out of this business entirely the same, no newborn child, no weathered woman, no hardened man, and not even god himself.

In the past few days Neji often felt tears swell behind his eyes. He should not have touched them with his dirtied hands, but lately he found himself not giving a damn. He would look to his father's watch and the small dials spin round and round, overlapping each other every now and again. Time continued, life continued and alas he continued with them.

Hizashi was a great man, and a doting father. He took his son to fairs and fetes, brought him marzipan piglets and bird puppets when he demanded them and was so terribly soft-spoken you'd think he'd break after placing a teacup in his hands. If he were alive now, Neji was sure he would be the best father that ever lived. Neji himself would have been raised better, received the attention he deserved and would be without his irrevocable, instinctive cruelty and arrogance he'd grown to despise of himself. Neji would have been happier, kinder, warmer, a pleasant young gentleman, and probably overtly idealistic, too. But it was better than the cynical self he knew now, and it was for all those reasons that Neji still mourned him.

As much as it was called for, Neji could not bring himself to visit the abbey, either. He had been in infirmaries before, but that was back when he was a lowly young soldier, just another disposable pawn like the rest of them. Now, he was a lieutenant who had marched those patients into death—and fates worse than death, through walls of surging fire and back.

Perhaps the worst of all his crimes was Hinata—poor, poor Hinata. Her own father did not like to display his love for her often, but he'd been a wreck after they'd broken the news to him and told him she was in what they supposed was a catatonic state. Hiashi spent many precious hours there spoon-feeding the girl and, for the first time in his life Neji felt sorry for the man who inadvertently took his father's life.

She was a diligent, kind child. She had laughed with Neji on Sundays, with glazed cinnamon rolls between them as they enjoyed their afternoon tea and Neji read her jokes from lolly wrappers. She had presented everyone she loved with flower pressings, and Neji could still remember how some of the prettiest ones were hung in the hallways of the Hyuuga manor. Everywhere she went she spread happiness, and it was his fault that her quiet resplendence had been snuffed out in an untimely manner. It was his fault for letting her stay; he should have personally seen her escorted back. But he had not done so, and now this had happened.

How he was ever to atone for such a crime, he did not know.

Oh, it was such a waste. Such a waste of life, this war, like the last and every war. Was he—was anyone—supposed to be so unhappy now that they had emerged victorious from their trials?

He was—

"Neji?" some voice called him, dragging him away from his thoughts, "Neji, it's me."

Putting his musings aside, Neji tried to wipe the filth from his face with his sleeve. It didn't work, of course. It never worked. No matter how you scrub, blood can never be washed off from the skin. Neji turned slowly to face Tenten, but he daren't look her in the eye for fear of some sentimental bullshit seeping through the cracks of his carefully constructed decorum.

"You realise we'll be gone tomorrow, right?"

Of course he did. He was reminded of it every few hours. It was so soon, too soon.

"Yes." Neji swallowed, and he could feel his throat caving in on his oesophagus. "What of it?"

"I wanted you to help me get this back, before I go, because I trust you, and only you, to do this," she said, handing him Neji small, dirtied envelope, "It's a letter I wrote home."

Neji reached out for the paper, and once his fingertips had travelled so far they brushed against hers, and odd electric sensation jolted through his nerves. She seemed to have felt it too, because she jerked her hand back the moment they touched.

"I'll be sure to have it delivered." Neji let the shock wear off, and afterwards opened his greatcoat to tuck the letter into one of his many pockets.

"And knowing you, you'd sooner be struck down than abandon duty. Since you're on parole tomorrow, I thought I'd come and say goodbye too."

"That's very sweet of you," he said as genuinely as possible. This time, he did allow himself one glance where he rested his eyes on the corners of her mouth, the curve of her jaw, the length of her neck and a strip of faded green uniform where her breasts should have been, had she unbound them. "But I would hardly like to think that this is goodbye."

Neji concentrated on her suprasternal notch—that handsome hollow—and after staring at it for a perhaps two minutes, her whole chest visibly began to quiver. Her arms rose up and she seemed to sway forward. Then it came, abrupt and uncalled for. Tenten made a desperate lunge for his embrace, and clasped her fingers tight around small of his back. What was that feeling? Neji's spine had become a pillar of ice.

"I'll miss you a lot." Her voice was so heavily muffled in his chest he couldn't tell whether or not she was crying. But with how her shoulders shook he figured that she might as well be. Hell, he was on the verge of tears himself and they'd both be heartless not to weep, given all that had happened the past few weeks.

Neji eased, his eyes all misty, and slowly drew his arms around her. It was strangely out of character for him to behave is such an unbelievably sappy way, but Neji was beyond wondering why.

"You'll write me, and I'll write back." Neji smoothed back her hair, ignoring his nausea. "I promise you that we'll meet again. Perhaps even before the war's end. I _promise _you."

"Oh god, I—" Tenten levelled her head, eyes indeed red at the corners. Neji knew that he had to confront her sometime about that special something he shared with her, and that perhaps now would be the best moment, but he was too much of a coward and a stubborn prick to have done so. That was when she laughed airily, although somehow forcibly, as if something had lodged itself in her windpipe, and cleared the atmosphere of its stifling depression. "Well, here we are," she breathed, pulling away from him now, "You make it sound as if I'm a war bride or something."

"A war bride?"

"Your fiancé, or lover, or girlfriend or sweetheart or whatever you want to call it." She seemed to be blushing, casually, if such a thing was possible. "Have you been down to the village yet?"

"No."

"You really ought to," she said. "That'll give you something to fight for."

"Would it? I'm on duty there tomorrow."

"Hmmm. Hell hath no fury like a non-combatant."

"So true." She dawdled in his arms, and seemed torn between staying with him and walking out of the tent. There was an elongated pause before Neji spoke up.

"Suppose we should pretend for a while," Neji proposed, keeping her close and ignoring the flush in his cheeks, "that you were my war bride."

"Why the hell would you want to do that?" She looked more amused than surprised.

"To leave our sad lives for a while, a form of escapism if you will. To go back to a time when we'd thought we'd well and truly win with patriotism alone. So I can kiss you and take you in my arms and imagine that I'm just another silly child who'll go marching off to war if only for the romance of it. So I may forget about whoever the hell else we've lost along the way."

She seemed to be taking in everything he said, and her eyes dimmed as he continued his monologue. It was possibly the most he'd ever said to her in one go.

Then, after what seemed like an age, Tenten pursed her lips and said, "Okay, but you know that I hate how a woman must stay put during times like this. You might be leaving me now, Neji, but I'll be right behind you soon enough."

Tenten stopped talking then, and Neji looked long and hard at her. He didn't know when it began, but he figured that he had always loved her. Perhaps not in a purely romantic sense—he loved her like he loved the heat of the sun on his skin. It was a love that Neji shared between a good book, an ephemeral bird, and an old friend. But now, she wasn't any of these things because he almost loved her as he would a wife.

With her staring up at him with her big brown eyes, Neji truly believed that she could be his bold young fiancé, his wife-to-be. He only needed the slightest affirmation of this faith to seal the bond and make him hers, and this came in the form of her fingers sweeping across his jaw. Like a crane in flight, her hand reached for his face, and her knuckles brushed past his cheek. She thumbed the length of it, and Neji could only close his eyes to take in the feeling.

Then he bent down those few centimetres, and gently laid his lips above her teeth. It was a fluid motion, he'd kissed girls before and it wasn't like that was anything new. Though he never had a fiancé per se, he still had been on the odd date or two and in most cases the meeting of the mouth came naturally after a certain stage in development.

But this—this was different. Even though it was their technical second kiss, they skipped too many steps to have made any sense of it at all. To a man who very much loved perfection, proper order and precision, there was something severely flawed in that process. They had come from strangers to nigh-foes to friends and then fiancés (albeit temporary ones) without even an inkling of proper acknowledgment towards that relationship, from either of them. To be frank, Neji could not have been sure whether Tenten had shown some seedling of feeling for him at all before now, or even a remote like for him.

That was why this was a totally new thing for Neji, who kissed not clumsily, but with an added layer of confusion often associated with first kisses. This was enforced by his mind only, however, so it was his body that remembered how to act about a lover, and therefore responsible for the escalation of their intimacy.

She tasted like iron and salt, and such a combination could only mean blood. Her lips were chapped, and those cracks of dry skin fitted aptly against the ragged sweep of Neji's. Tenten was perhaps more adventurous than he was; she was the first one to show a flash of defiant tongue, deftly reaching out under his fleshy muscle and towards his molars. It was after that Neji lost all sense of restraint (and rational thought) and littered her right side full of kisses. His lips could embody either a soft caress, or a hungry maw, but Tenten never made a sound louder than a tiny, tiny gasp.

Perhaps now, the two of them would never go back to how they used to be. Once someone intersected with another so personally, it was like—Christ, he'd no way to describe the phenomenon. Neji could relate a million different metaphors to how he felt now. He could write uninhibited prose for pages and pages, of comparisons of this to fire and stars, wind and rain, but it hardly mattered anymore. He was too lost in the moment to care, let alone _think_.

Neji continued to ignite Tenten's throat with human heat while her wrists were on his hips. Neji's heart pumped erratically against his chest, and he assumed it was the doing of those hot flecked sparks, fireworks, going off in his head. Hers was too; he could feel it working hard against the faint blue arteries on her neck. He realised then that the sound of a heart to him was the most beautiful, poignant sound in the world, if only for that moment alone. He stopped with his fevered kisses when he found this, and instead settled to rest his ear to that sweet grove at the bottom of her neck—her suprasternal notch—to listen to it thudding for him.

Her chin now sitting on his head, Neji drowned his ears in her breath. Could that sound have been any more perfect? He could hear the flutter of wings behind her bones, and, if he listened close enough, he could hear the knell of tears being born. It was ironical that Neji had never thought of her as delicate or fragile or ethereal as he did now. Despite that, it wasn't as if she was weaker than he was. By all means, she was his equal if not his superior, but that was missing the point. He_, himself_, was more breakable than she ever could be, and up until that pivotal moment in time he had failed to realise just how brittle the entire human condition was.

And then Neji pulled away. How could he ever of thought that he'd do such a thing—to one under his own command, no less. He was sure the army had a proper name for this! How could he have ever made love to a bird? One who would fly away the day autumn began to seep in, perhaps sooner if blood was spilt over her plumage.

Unconscionable. Out of politeness, and his love for perfection, Neji finished with a small peck between her mouth and her jaw. Her lips were distended, wetted over with his saliva, and redder now that blood had swelled beneath the skin there. Neji was too afraid to kiss them again.

Still totally in character—although a little weak now—Tenten said, "We'll be married in June next year. I've always wanted a summer wedding. Ma's already got the dress ready. And she'll have all the yellow flowers you like so much, the cake ordered and the guests invited soon so make sure you make it back by then, Neji."

Neji's eyes hardened, but he played along for both their sakes. "I'll be sure to be back by May."

"If you're not, you'll have a very unhappy bride on your hands," she warned him. "She'll hunt you down and stomp you out if you dare stand her up at the altar."

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied. He traced a subconscious finger over her collarbone.

"I hate waiting, you know that."

"I know. I know that you'd also hate to miss out on any of the action."

"Damn straight." The backs of her nails were against her quivering eyelids now. "I'm really gonna miss you," she said for the second time that night. She looked so bottled up then that Neji would have preferred that she cried right then and there rather than compose herself like so, with her teeth on her swollen lip trembling like that.

Neji sighed. After letting air back into his lungs, he said, "You won't miss me; you're only upset now because of all you—all we've lost here."

"Shut _up,"_ she moaned. "Just tell me that you'll miss me too?"

It was difficult to squeeze out, but Neji was able to say it after perhaps three tries of the tongue. This may as well have been their last conversation after all, and Neji wanted to leave her with—if not _those _three words—something that left a lasting impression on her, one that showed her he at least cared and thought about her often.

So, with a deep breath and a clench of the fist, he finally whispered, "I'll miss you too."

* * *

Tenten stared at her stupid watch—_Neji_'s stupid watch.

She guessed it was hers now, since he'd given it to her this morning. It was a pretty trinket, probably very valuable by the looks of it, and Tenten would have rejected the gift had he not _glared _at her like that. He was horrible for using _that _look against her, and she didn't even want the thing. It belonged to his father, so Neji should have kept it.

She watched the gears mesh and spin together, the cogs her tiny guardians of time. When she returned her eyes to Neji, his face was difficult to make out in the bustled crowd below, but Tenten tried hard to keep her face glued on him anyway. To doze off at a clock all day would be a terrible waste of time.

Tenten was unhappy; she wore the accessory too much like an engagement ring. It did not help at all that they had played pretend the last night, if only for a laugh. Even so, something happened then that seemed uneasily real, close. His eyes, maybe, and how intense they were. Then again, Neji's eyes had always been quite passionate; though judging by first impressions "passionate" was one of the last words one would use to describe a man like Neji.

And much to her chagrin, she had liked the idea of it too. There was something that fit about Neji when he wrapped one arm around her and held her tight. It was no sense of security (she hated the idea of that, a "sheltering" man), but a comfortableness only shared between the best of friends and the most knowing of spouses. Though up until then she only ever implicitly decided she had perhaps at least an infinitesimal crush on him, last night there had been a definite spark in the way they kissed, like they truly loved each other.

The more she thought about it, the more she would not have minded marrying Neji, who was on the exterior cold and distant, but really pudding inside the walls of his strong, young heart. She knew more about him that she thought was ever possible, of his favourite foods and his dreams and his family and his tendency to take the safer, lacklustre routes—and she would have liked to be part of that, too. She also couldn't help but think he would have supported her struggle for equality, her ballistic fixation and appreciated the fine art printed upon her tarot cards back in her room at home. She believed he could love her had he the chance to do so.

She didn't really know what it was, but there was something nice about that thought that she would not let go of, no matter how outlandish and phantasmal it seemed, even to herself. Since when had that gallingly handsome face reverted her back to her girlish fantasies of ten years ago? That foolish long hair, which was anything but practical, those soulfully profound gray eyes and that—Tenten could continue for a day and more, but she stopped there. It would never happen. They would be sooner dead by then, and then there was Lee.

She had been pushing it for years, but she had to acknowledge that her feelings for Lee were not entirely extinct and perhaps better described as dormant. Tenten could not rule out the possibility. She sure _hoped _so. Her stomach took a jab as his image flashed across her mind, and she began to feel sorry for the both of them all over again. She remembered how Lee's one goal in life was to become a master martial artist like his mentor, but it was impossible now that he had only one arm and one leg. He still would have achieved his ultimate aspiration had he one more of either limb, but he had lost one of both and would probably live with both the mental and physical pain of it the rest of his life.

She remembered how, as she left Lee a morning ago, she spoke through clenched teeth:

"Remember what old Gai always used to tell us? I'll tell you, he'd say, 'That which does not kill us only makes us stronger' all the time! Aren't you going to take his word for it?" she'd said. She knew Lee always had to listen to what Gai had to say, but—even though she saw him nod and smile, his big bug-eyed gaze did not quite meet hers in the way she had expected. She had perhaps cried a bit after that, alone in the darkened hallway while all the nurses slept uncomfortably in their bricked barrack. It was a sad day indeed when Lee lost his faith in his own master's words, and a sadder one still when the two would meet again.

That was when she decided she would stay with him till the end. It was the least she could do for her composite. The marriage proposal was a stupid idea. She shouldn't have felt regretful and a little rejected that he had turned her down, but she did. It was only natural; it was the first time she had ever offered marriage to another person, even if it was only a suggestion. She had even predicted his decision the moment the words left her mouth.

Besides, Tenten in all honesty didn't _really_ want to marry _Lee_. Not for any reason except that he was a friend above all else. It would be their teenage years all over again, and it was tryingly obvious how it would end. Tenten hated lying to herself and she knew that both their hearts were set on someone else.

A sudden feeling of nausea then awakened (Tenten didn't think she could blame the swaying of the boat), and from there Tenten shook her head as she went through her thoughts. How could she have been such a selfish, uncaring friend? It scared her how casually she thought these things, how numb she was to all that death and destruction. Since when was the middle of a war a time to ponder future relationships that haven't even begun? Never!

Ever since she began to notice it, it seemed that her skin thickened with each successive day. She was desensitised to death, now, so she hatched a theory because there seemed to be nothing about those mental processes that was right. It was like the stories she heard, of men out on the battlefield shot through the gut who felt nothing of their wounds and soldiered right across kilometres of trench with a comrade over their shoulder, and only felt the pain when they were well and truly plunging into their deaths. Surely such a tale could not be wholly true, but perhaps it was one that had some merit, and it was like that now.

That adrenaline rush that kept you going, maybe during a war it lasted longer periods of time than in short passages of cheap thrills in a peaceful era, perhaps even through the entire duration of that war. There was no time in between to mourn the loss of the fallen; there was always something else left for the soldier to do. He became preoccupied with the now, but never the then. It kept him alive, it kept him focused, it amused him and it gave him other comforts to turn to while the mind still saw to the trauma which was sure to haunt them the future. They had to make do with what they had, always, so whatever recent, pathetic happiness would be dwelled over like a grand miracle, and elegies for the dearly departed short, sweet and seemingly forgotten, but really delayed. Miracles like the previous night. An elegy like the one for all those the trumpets paid homage to—Naruto, Asuma, Sasuke...

Tenten sighed, sharp as a whistle. About time they actually began to move. Her eyes could still find Neji's, and from the deck she flailed her arms at him like a madman.

She felt extreme sadness, yet extreme joy (however, why?) with everything that happened as the ship began to set sail, so decided that the better option was to temporarily let go for a moment's respite and hurl all her worries into the wind. She guessed they all deserved it after all they'd been through during the latest battle. After all, she had never been out in a boat before.

The playful air whipped her hair behind her, and moved her to lift out her arms for a better cleansing. She opened her mouth and caught sprinkles of the lively sea-spray on her tongue. They would have all had to forgive and forget, and learn to live on. That or become increasingly insane until they ceased to be humans anymore.

She would see him again, only she wasn't sure when. But she knew that she would see him again. If she checked, she was sure that it was in the stars, and the cards. She mentally made a note to herself that she should set her hands on a tarot deck as soon as she could. She had forgotten how much effort she used to put into her gorgeous, well-thumbed tarot cards that sat lonesome in one of her drawers somewhere, put out of her mind the secrets of the Wheel and the Lovers—

* * *

"Yo," a voice called from behind. It was a rude awakening, indeed. She turned around to face a dishevelled Kiba. Tenten was unsure of how she was to approach him. Though she had not exchanged a word with him since their bitter falling-out by the hands of tragedy, it was not with hostility she looked upon him. She had already grown tired of the common feelings of grief and anguish, and although she didn't like it, she had already forgiven him before he could even apologise. A blow between friends was perhaps nothing compared to the technical loss of a loved one, and in retrospect Tenten did admit that his reaction was by all means an understandable one. "I'm sorry, Ryuu."

She rested her hands on her chin, and gave him a lazy look. "It's Tenten, remember?"

"Oops." Kiba rubbed the back of his head, almost as if he were always so bashful in the presence of a girl. His lips hung ajar for what seemed a very long time, and quiet sounds came out form the back of his throat. He seemed to be rendered unable to speak, now.

"Well, I'm sorry too," she said sincerely. "I shouldn't have intervened—it was just _that_ word you used, it set me off."

"Yeah, but you did get pretty carried away."

"I'm sorry." Tenten sensed agitation in both of them, but dismissed it. "You're right; I should have comforted you instead of scolding you."

"It's 'kay." Kiba awkwardly put his hands behind his head.

She didn't have much to say to him, but Tenten suddenly calculated an absence. "Say, where's Akamaru? I missed him."

"He's hiding in the cabins. I wouldn't want the cap'n to find him."

"Ah."

Changing the subject yet again, Kiba said, "I took your advice and wrote a letter to ma and sis."

"It's a bit too—"

"I went to the boss this morning." Kiba drew a nervous laugh. "About the boss... You two are—"

She did a double take. "Scuse me?"

"Uh, you and the boss. Didja get it off?"

"What the hell?"

"This morning he was goin' on about how I should keep you safe and look out for ya and all that. His eyes were the giveaway, I think." His wolfish grin was back. "And I _can_ smell the chemistry, have been for _weeks_."

Tenten's face was hot behind her hands. Kiba was far more intuitive than she had given him credit for, and she hated herself for that. She hated herself for her own condescension towards him. Tenten tasted bitterness in her mouth. Back at the camp, he was always the one to go to for the latest rumours. Thinking back on it, they were all probably collected solely by Kiba's observations and his keen sense of smell. He always was able to pick up any scent from a mile away as accurately as Tenten could fire bullets at a target. His stories were probably more truth than fiction. And he wasn't lying for the attention; Kiba was merely telling it like it was. He had mistaken him for an overbearing man (like she had all men), whereas he was a man of truth, albeit a nosy one.

"Oh, and you've got a hickey on your neck." This was effective. Tenten's hands moved quickly to cover up the supposed bruise. "Gotcha! So you _are _seeing each other," Kiba snickered.

Tenten was quick to realise she indeed had no of those alleged lovebites (not where he could see them, anyway), so she hit him, sounding off a loud _wham._ She glared, in all seriousness, because this was not a laughing matter regardless of how clever he was, and how silly she was for falling for it. She snapped at him and waited for Kiba's howls of laughter to die down before he approached next appeasement.

"I won't letcha down again, Pretty Boy. Don't you worry," he promised her. Kiba stood somewhat awkwardly beside her for a minute or two, and both said nothing. Kiba looked to the fading shoreline, as Tenten did the same.

Oh, she would miss this place. She would miss everything about Konoha, she would miss Lee and her memories, and most derisorily of all she would miss Neji. When would she return to her country? When, _god, _when would she see him again and resume where they had paused?

Tenten dreamed of a hundred good things in the comfortable silence that settled between them, and it was only when Kiba said, "Manhug?" that she returned from her haze of fantasies. He was stretching his arms out toward her, and Tenten shrugged as if to say why not, and thrashed her arms around him in a timely matter. And who was she kidding—she _missed _this too. She had missed Kiba and his stupidity, his cleverness and Akamaru's soft belly beside her in the morning.

"Glad you're back," she muttered into his leather jacket.

"Glad to be back." Then, as if he had hit a lifelong realisation, he looked at Tenten in her entirety as if she lacked something crucial, and said, "Say, ain't cha cold?"

She shook her head, but he placed his jacket over her shoulders anyway. She didn't protest as it was Kiba's own way of apologising. Only then did she truly take a good look at Kiba—she had been avoiding him around the eyes—and realised that he had bags sagging below them. He'd probably been crying himself to sleep, if he slept at all, now.

But she let him be, because a man is nothing without his pride.

"We'll come back to this place," she said. "Someday."

"Yeah."

"When do you think we'll make it back?" Tenten then guessed that it was appropriate that Kiba didn't answer; the question frightened both of them quite severely. "If it's any comfort, there's something my old teacher always used to tell me," said Tenten without a reply from Kiba. "He always used to tell us that 'that which does not kill us only makes us stronger', you know?"

Kiba had a sleeve to his eyes and teeth on his lips.

"I—"

"We'll see this through. He—we promised."

"Uh-huh." There was no hiding his tears now.

"So," said Tenten, taking Kiba's hand from his eyes, "We'll be alright until we come back. We have to be."

Kiba bit down hard on his lip, and he looked so lost with his wet face and puppy-dog eyes.

"Two months, half a year, ten years... I don't know when, but we'll be back. We'll see each other again."

Kiba wrapped a hand around Tenten's hand. He squeezed and Tenten squeezed back.

* * *

_Well, here I am lying in bed with tonsillitis killing my throat. Luckily, this means I got off school yesterday and today. So after convalescing yesterday I had time and enough energy today to edit the draft of this chapter! Isn't this great! I doubt it will speed up my recovery, but since it's more or less the pivotal NejiTen scene above, how did you feel I handled it? Did you hate it? Did you like it? I'd love to hear your thoughts._

_Also, the story is drawing to a conclusion in a couple of chapters. Is there anything in particular you would like to see written before I finish off the fic?_


	26. The Hourglass, III

_The Hourglass, Part III_

The opportunity for the perfect kill came once Konoha garnered a win. Temari had watched the action unfurl from her own balcony, and as an assassin hailing from Suna she would have benefitted from that battle either way. Konoha had won, so at least Suna gained an advantage from the enfeeblement of a rival, and the same would apply had the reverse occurred. The only thing she had to make sure of was that Hiashi did not die before she was given the chance to kill him.

Temari had stalked the general day and night. At first she intended him to be her magnum opus, her swansong as an assassin before she would retire from the life of a killer, find someone to love and settle down. She would slash his throat and mutilate his corpse, and she would _feel_ again. It would be a simple death, satisfying with none of that sentimental string shit attached. She would resume once she had her vengeance, her hollow, fruitless revenge, without a speck of blood on her hands, and that would be the plan.

But no.

She had planned Hyuuga Hiashi's death precisely, down to the second. She had walked the few hundred paces in the middle of the night over and over, each time shrouded with the most discreet clothes she could find. She watched him every night in his camp sipping his purple wine and rubbing his feminine fingers and scrawling his plans in his disgustingly perfect cursive. And Temari tried to hate him, she really did. After all, he was the man who took life her brothers_._

Her _brothers_—that word was regularly brought up in that mind of Temari's. An empty word. They had never meant anything to her, no matter how much she wished they did. The limits of their love had lain in cooperative massacres, and their friendship ended in the stilted conversations in the celebratory dinners after. She had never gotten the chance to become close to her brothers, and Temari grew to realise she hated _that _more than she hated Hiashi.

Every time Temari saw Hiashi, her mind became absent and her thoughts always trailed back to those _imbeciles. _How could they have left her there without a trace? Not a word, not a sight. Temari would have settled with a passing nod. When they died, Temari had not seen them for two long years. And they made such a big deal about their profession that they never learned to have fun—not like her—and refused to form any sort of relationship with the outside world. So now, Temari would be the only one who remembered that they ever lived. An obscure history book in a hundred years' time might make a passing mention, but no one would care. Except for their negligent, steadfast, eldest sister, who slaughtered and left a pungent trail of debauchery in her wake.

So one day, specifically the day before the arrival of the ships, Temari had pursued him for the umpteenth, and last, time. Hiashi was not in his tent, but that was not the worry, and it was of no serious concern to Temari; Hiashi was out of his tent more often than not. All Temari needed to do was inspect the scene of the departure as she normally did, gather some clues and be on her way. So that was what Temari did. As usual, she searched his files and his belongings for hints leading to his destination, obtained her information and left the room as it once was, untouched by her.

She had blended into the shadows of the trees and followed Hiashi into the hospital. All ran smoothly there when she knocked out a random nurse, stole her clothes and entered the ward in which he was visiting.

That was where things began to spiral out of control.

* * *

There was a girl in there. She reminded Temari of one of the beautiful bisque dolls she owned when she was a little girl. From that one glance Temari felt that she really _could_ have liked her. It was a pity that there was something obviously wrong with her—her eyes were just as glazed as a puppet's, and her placid expression finished that doll-like quality about her.

Envy had seethed through her when he saw Hiashi with this girl—so now obviously his daughter, and watched him display that filial love her own parents lacked. She could see in his wrinkled face the terror, the distress and concern he held for his daughter.

Not her father, though. He had tried to kill Gaara when he was a delightful, big-eyed boy no littler than five, slaughtered their mother, and ignored Temari and Kankuro for the greater duration of his life.

Temari then wondered how it was she was able to keep all that contempt—for her country, her family and the entire world—locked away in some secret chamber in her heart for so long. The new emotion had cut her a deep gash and, flesh torn open; salt was then rubbed, _harshly, _into her wound.

Some ruffian boy with a leather jacket on was on the girl's left hand side, with what seemed to be his dog (they were allowed in there?) cuddled up against his chest. The kid stared at his bedridden friend with sickeningly loving eyes and held her hands with incredible tenderness. He could have easily been her boyfriend, and perhaps the two had had sex already. Temari could hear herself snuff. If they had indeed shared a bed, the girl had made the right choice. He wasn't a bad-looking kid, and he obviously thought the world of her. Lucky girl, this one looked like the kind of guy that might've been a bit rough to start with and a little wild around the edges, but had a large cushion for a heart. His being there had proved that.

She had then winced when Shikamaru invaded her thoughts. At the thought of him, she wanted to hurl her tray against the wall. She didn't of course, and had simply stood there, not moving until they moved, not until she had allowed a long enough opening for tear-streaked Hiashi to see her face.

That was when she said, "Excuse me," and fled, ran with all her trained might down that flight of stairs and a corner or four. It wasn't the way she had entered, but she had taken enough trips to the hospital to sketch a general map of it in her mind. Escape was not a problem—

Or so she thought.

Temari had known that she had lost her edge as soon as she heard a noise across the corner. It was a rather loud snore.

Two months ago she would not have flinched and stopped for a fucking rest. She would have pressed on and made sure she completed her mission with minimal error. But now, not only had she allowed a period of time to _pause_, but she had picked a place where she could have been seen! Temari cursed and she turned her neck so she could take a peek. A fair move, but not the most intelligent.

She made her best, most quiet turn, and what she saw had disturbed her. That abandoned, windowed storeroom let in just enough moonlight to highlight the upper torsos of a couple. And she could recognise that idiosyncratic, rumpled red mane anywhere; it could only belong to Shikamaru's cherub of a best friend.

Her eyes had narrowed, and it actually took effort for Temari to stop herself from laughing. The butterfly had emerged from his chrysalis, indeed! She never thought she would say it, but Chouji was almost _chiselled _now. His face had slimmed down, and he definitely passed for handsome. His right, sinewy arm was slung around some blonde girl he'd romanced—or by the looks of it, had romanced _him._

Temari allowed herself a small moment of peace as she set her eyes upon the scene. Temari _would _have gone as far to think of him as a friend; she and Shikamaru were always the first to try his new honeyed pork recipe or French toast served on chequered trays, and the boy was polite towards her as far as she could recall—endearing, almost. She was well aware that Shikamaru had never informed him of their true relationship, and Chouji was much too naive and clueless to have figured it out for himself. Temari suspected that as soon as he had, he stopped visiting, at least when she was around. Besides, Chouji was _amusing _above all, and that was what mattered most to Temari.

A disgusting, sugary feeling had coated her taste buds when she had discovered this—this girlish delight. She felt _happy _for the bastard, and even though she had recognised her own terrible, terrible sin, she continued to do so.

Until the girl slumped beside him began to come into focus.

The _fuck_?

Temari had drawn back and clasped a hand over her mouth and in retrospect, it was rather melodramatic gesture. But the situation at hand had _deserved _that melodrama.

The girl had turned in her half-sleep, and her face stuck out like a sore thumb.

Ino Yamanaka—that pretty swine, was lying in a spare bed with Shikamaru's bestest fucking friend. Why had she done this? More importantly, why had _Chouji _done it? He was one of the better behaved ones, the last person in the world who she had expected to do something like that.

Temari gritted her teeth—regardless of how in love, how horny and how goddamn "considerate" they were, how long they'd known each other... how could they have done such a thing! It would break Shikamaru's thick, cavalier heart to see his most trusted confidante with his precious ex-fiancé of whom he so obviously still loved.

"Chouji," Ino had breathed with a pretty hand resting across the boy's chest. It was a sure try at gaining his sympathy and affection, of which she'd surely obtain. It was hard to fail with eyes like those.

"Huh?" As if he'd forgotten where he was, he'd muttered, "Ino? It's—crap."

Ino had her nose at the very base of his neck, and made a low humming noise. "Oh, Chouji."

"Gosh, Ino, I really ought to go..."

Temari had then whipped her head back and pressed her body close to her wall. Her heartbeat soared like mad. How terrible! She had been able to still it before, but in that moment she had felt that her palpitations were so loud that it might give her away to the lovers. She had then taken three, steady breaths, and forced herself to concentrate to the rustle of sheets.

"Don't," Temari had heard Ino say. "Would you stay until dawn at least?"

"Oh! If you kiss me again, if I _t-touch _you again, I might never want to leave. You're like a—"

"Don't you dare compare me to a piece of meat, Chouji!"

"I wasn't going to..." Although she had not even seen it, Temari could practically taste the darkness emanating from Ino's accusatory glare. Chouji only sighed—that was different to how he would have reacted a year ago. There was a drag before Chouji spoke again. "...Anyway, I've gotta take care of Shi—" There was silence. "—w-well..."

"Chouji..." Had she cried?

Chouji counteracted his own, quiet ebullience. "We'll get a house, a big house when we get back. We'll plant some cherry tomatoes, and I'll cook pudding and..."

"Don't say it like I'm gonna marry you." Yes, there had definitely been tears.

"I never meant us—I mean, not _just_ us. I was thinking we'd take..."

"Oh." Temari had heard the soft sound of clothes meeting skin. Ino seemed to have finally accepted the fact that he was leaving. Perhaps with her inexperience with the different varieties of men, Ino had failed to identify Chouji's guilt. Temari felt sick. "I see."

After a slight paused had passed, Chouji spoke up, "We'll write ya, that I'll promise."

And Ino had replied, "You will?"

"Only if you write back."

"Always!"

At that point, two shoes had clumsily tapped the floor. Seconds later, there were two more steps, although lighter and graceful in execution. Soon enough they were shuffling out of the storeroom and into the hallway lit with blue. Temari, thankfully, was shielded by the darkness and she was positive they couldn't see her from there. She had relished her generous view, and began to devise a sinister course of punishment for barbecue boy and golden girl.

Ino had a gentle hand against Chouji's back as she walked him out, her eyes still looking up at him. They seemed almost like lion and cat, and Temari had to give credit to them for that picturesque quality they maintained whilst situated beside one another.

They had stopped at the staircase, and Ino quietly told Chouji with her blue eyes that she would go no further. It was then that Chouji pulled her in for a handsome kiss—or perhaps the other way around. That kiss had been orchestrated with impressive harmony, and Temari was surprised that they hadn't been doing it for years.

Chouji descended a single step before he put one hand the railing, and faced Ino yet again to express to her his final farewells.

"He loves you." Chouji had rubbed his eyes with his whole, lean hand as if someone had just slapped his ice-cream off his cone. It was a classic mannerism of his. "He still really loves you—h-he just won't say it."

"I know." Ino had her fingers on her mouth, and were running them along her lips.

Chouji seemed to have nothing left to say, so she did the same and let him return to his journey down. When he had completed his first flight however, there was obviously something she had forgotten to tell him, because Ino sprinted like a cheetah to the staircase. Her hands had slammed into the curved area of the railing as she gripped it to support herself. She stood on her tippy toes as she leaned over. Her voice was half whisper and half yell when she called to him, "Remember to watch your weight!"

"What?" he'd snapped from below. Chouji had obviously lost his winning streak on his voice control.

"You heard what I said." Temari was sure she had seen Ino grin, but it could have been the lighting of the room. "So if you listen to what I say, I'll leave the last chip in the packet for you when you get back."

"You would?" The Chouji Temari knew would have raved at Ino for hours for that. This one had grown up, grew a thicker skin, and didn't.

"Keep quiet!"

Chouji whispered that time, "_You would?_"

"Yeah," she'd murmured back. From there Temari could only assume that Chouji had smiled up at Ino; she had a smile on her face that could sway the morality of a demon. But it was a transient happiness nevertheless. As Temari had heard the last of the steps conquered, she knew Ino did too as she fell to her knees with her fists against her face.

Ino choked on her mucus, she sobbed heartbreakingly, her yellow bangs scrunched in the mess, and it had all been enough to pluck a chord somewhere in Temari's heart. She had still felt furious at them, but she also kept a small shard of empathy for Ino somewhere in the midst of that contempt. Because of this, Temari granted Ino a grace period. A brief one, but a grace period no less: Temari would strike as soon as she would stop crying.

It took some time, but Ino was able to get back on her feet eventually. She had allowed herself a small sniffle, smoothed her apron, and stood taller than she had before. Temari had grown weak when she went in for the kill, lunged forward and placed a finger on one side of her neck and a thumb on the other. There wasn't a scream from her though, and that had frightened Temari. Ino only coughed before Temari slackened her hand so that she could speak.

"What—" Temari took a fistful of that yellow hair and pulled it up so Ino could have a good, long look at her. "It's _you._"

"Why yes, thank you for remembering."

"The first time you brought that arrogant ass of yours—that disgustingly cheap musk—into this abbey, I'd known who you were." Ino didn't meet Temari's eye. "I always have."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that."

Ino had struggled a little, but Temari had not bothered to move, even after she began to kick. "What is it you _want_ from me?" she said, almost a whine. Her eyelids were pink, and if Temari had detained the girl any longer...

"You and Chouji. Why did you do it?"

"What? Are you going to fuck him now?"

"I might."

"Fuck you." Ino spat, and simultaneously blew her bangs back in place.

"My, aren't we using naughty words today." Temari slapped her for that. "Why did you do it?" she tried again.

"He—" Ino placed her gaze beyond Temari. "Why should I tell you?"

"I'll hit you again."

"I don't care."

Temari hit her again, and it was surprising that Ino still had not cried.

"_Why _do you want to know?" Ino sounded more agitated than afraid, and in turn that caused fear on Temari herself. "Why in the world would you care what happens between us? Give me one reason, pineapple-head, and I'll tell you."

And there was a strange sincerity to her words that Temari actually believed her.

"It'd break Shikamaru's heart, don't you know that?" Temari tightened her grip on Ino's neck to prove her point. This time Ino pulled her hands up and tried to wring Temari off. But no matter how she scratched there was no letting go on Temari's part.

"K-keep—" Ino wheezed, digging her nails into Temari's skin, "Keep t-this up and I'll die before I can tell you."

Temari glared, and loosened again.

Ino took in a big gulp of air, and said, "We three, me, Chouji and you—we all love him."

"Get on with it."

"I just—we—" Temari could hear the struggle in Ino's voice to keep without her emotions. "Shikamaru and I are long over. But me and Chouji, we've loved each other a long time, just not in _that _way until..."

"You're a slut."

"So are you."

"It was _Chouji._"

"Stop telling me that, you little shit! You fuck, you _hideous_ bitch, stop trying to make me regret having him, because I never will," Ino yelled. She shook her head as if tired. "Shikamaru's no more than a friend now, if he even wants to be that. I don't owe him _anything, _and he's happy now."

Almost unaware of her own weakness, Temari's tears came almost unnoticeable, which was strange, as Temari had not remembered crying since her infancy. Surely such a momentous day in her life would have had a more exciting reaction. Her grip had loosened on the Yamanaka girl, and her body slowly slid down the wall as Temari let go of her little by little.

Temari herself began to weep, and in a night full of unexpected happenings, she'd let go of Ino completely and found that Ino was _cradling _her in her arms.

"You're a hideous bitch, but maybe deep down inside there's a human being there somewhere," she cooed. "As his friend, could I ask you to get Shikamaru out? I know you can. I've thought a bit, and in my mind I think I'd rather not know who you are. But I'm sure that if you can find me, you can get him out."

Temari was trembling and she had her hands on Ino's ribs. She couldn't recall any other time where she had been hugged by another woman.

"Yes," was all she said before she fled right on the spot.

* * *

After she kept thinking back on her conversation with Ino, kept thinking about the girl in the bed, Hiashi, her father and the boy who must have been her lover. No matter that she was a "love rival", but Ino had shown her graciousness and a kind of human compassion that Temari always lacked. The girl in the bed and the boy by her side embodied a kind of innocence and sweetness that she could never have. Hiashi had shown that he loved his daughter, while Temari never did love her brothers or her parents.

That brought up unpleasant thoughts about her broken family and her contempt towards both her brothers. Perhaps she'd always held it against Gaara for his existence. If he'd never been born, maybe their mother would still be alive. She would have liked that, so maybe she was _happy _that he was dead?

She now had the pistol in hand after she promised herself, she _promised, _that she'd kill him. She owed it to herself, to them, to do so, but she'd gone soft! Her hand was shaking while the crosshairs sat on his forehead. Fucking Shikamaru, fucking Gaara, whoring Ino, shitting Chouji and goddamn cunting Kankuro—they'd broken her. She'd picked the worst time to grow a conscience, for when it came down to it, when she had the perfect shot, Temari could not raise a single hiss against him.

Her breath was shallow and quick, her hands shook and sweat pooled at the base of her bangs despite the cold. She was sure she had not been like this during her first execution.

"God." Temari closed her eyes, and placed a hand on her forehead. She could do this. She would do this.

She regained some semblance of confidence, and fingered the trigger. Her eyes were shut tight, and when she opened them—

Hiashi was gone.

In his place there was the strangest shape, almost coffin-like. It took her a little while longer to identify what it was. Why had she not heard it hit the floor? Surely her blood could not have rushed so strongly to have not noticed an iron maiden. Although cherubic in the face, upon further inspection its eyes were uncannily large and depraved, almost grotesque in its single expression: a hungry grin. Perhaps the most frightening aspect of it was the lifelessness of the device. Her cruel brother had locked her inside it when she was no more than a child of nine. It could only belong to one person and one person only.

"Kankuro!" she called out, surprised by the influx of emotion in her own voice. There was a shrill scream as she watched him stick a sword into Hiashi. As the scream died down and the night was silent again, Temari leapt forward, and hugged her brother around the shoulders. He did not resist, and to his merit even patted a hand on her shoulder. "You're alive?"

"Yeah, sis," he chuckled. His fingers rested at a stop near the nape of her neck.

"How can you be alive and not tell me? You fucking cunt." Temari all but squeezed the words out of her throat. "And Gaara. Is he here too?"

Kankuro pulled back with both his hands on his soldiers. He shook his head, and his face ceased to be obscure. Temari felt a sense of pride at how it looked: scarred, familiar and grave. "He didn't make a sound. Not a squeak."

"And you?"

"I screamed like a fucking banshee."

"You're a disgrace, Kankuro. A disgrace to the Sabaku name."

Kankuro grinned. He wasn't even looking at her when he took her by the hand and ran out. "Bitch at me later. We've gotta get out of here before we get found out."

She put her fingers flat against his wrist and pulled with her thumb.

"Wait," she said. Shikamaru was on her mind. "I've left something behind, and I need to make sure—"

"The hell's gotten into you?"

"You won't like this." Temari pulled him in the opposite direction. "He'll only stay with us until we get him somewhere safe."

"'Him?' Fuck me; the Hourglass is dead, isn't she?"

"Yes," she said, and continued to tug along. "Let's be happy from now on."

* * *

_You know, I really love Chouji. Much like Tenten, he really does not get enough love despite his canonical scenes being some of the most powerful in the Naruto universe. Is anybody with me? And he hasn't really had his moment yet, so I thought I would give him his. ShikaIno fans, please do not shoot me._

_And I know the chapter needs editing, so I'll do it later, as always. It's a very weird chapter, I know, but that's what makes it a sort of interesting chapter for me to have written._

_I'm also aware that I promised it a couple of weeks back. Unfortunately, I got a bit caught up in life to notice. But hey! In the time I was away, I manage to survive to the age of fifteen! Unfortunately, I feel much older now. Hopefully I'll be able to provide you with ficcage of increasing quality in the year to come! Thank you for reading, and reviewing._

_Random fact: I was thinking one day, what would be Kankuro's world war equivalent of puppets? Then it came to me: IRON MAIDENS. Oh gods._


	27. The Promise

_The Promise_

THREE YEARS LATER

Tenten was obscure, as she was obscure with bushes in her hair and snow in her mouth. Ironically, this time she was not in disguise as a member of the opposite sex, hidden like a predatory tiger crouched behind strews of grass. This time, she was situated in her own island of solitude, between satin skirts swishing, pearls, cologne, laughter, painted red lips and lovers and friends who drank and kissed. Tenten should have hated this country's people for their political neutrality, their happiness and lack of loss, but she could only sit at her table and feel slightly contemptuous with how she was alone, without hugs and without kisses, and without a friend to laugh with.

She herself, was decked in a classy, slinking blue thing she had bought just for the occasion, with a bluebird pin in her hair to match it. And she wanted to be seen. She sifted uncomfortably in her seat; Neji was considerably late, and never was so unless something or someone had gotten in his way. What's more, she felt naked in her garments. Her legs were clad in nothing but air—a death sentence on the front, and her pretty shoes came without socks, another fatal mistake for the soldier. She never understood why she had let herself do this to herself after years of posing as a man (she had become good at what she did), but on the flip side she also felt some relief in her breasts that now hung unbound.

A little more than three years ago, Tenten had waved goodbye to Neji on a massive ship, after she had proposed to Lee and watched a number of her comrades perish in battle. That was the last time she'd seen him in person, though she oft revisited him in her dreams and her letters.

She remembered her first letter from him, the ink forming words of slender, ornate penmanship. At the time she was nineteen, was speeding in a train off to defend some city she had never even heard of, and had not seen or heard from Neji for a year.

She had watched the trees pass by her window, the shrubbery whizzing past her in a hundred different spectrums of green. Outside of the train's confines, it had smelled of sweet spring, of blooming flowers and sticky dew. Birds sang and all the little animals crawled from their dens to come together for their yearly rituals. It was Lee's favourite season of the year.

They had been moving to and from villages, avoiding direct warfare until they were given the order to board that train and report for duty at the front once again. Throughout the week Tenten and her comrades had done her best to keep each other safe, but had come to accept that the fact that the battle up ahead would bring death as it had and would continue to bring.

She remembered so clearly the sky streaked with shades of golds and pinks, and how it was weaved through with thin clouds strung in complementary colours. The sun had begun to set over the horizon, and the moon had come out to play on the opposite side of him.

When the letters came, it was Sergeant Nara who had given them to her, after which he had bestowed her with his signature shrug and slumped on the seat opposite her, rested his head on the radio and napped. And she had gingerly taken the envelopes from Shikamaru, hands fluttering like the wings of a lethargic moth and handled the two letters with care. It was only with much fumbling that she'd decided to open Lee's first.

After some time spent picking at the adhesive, Tenten simply ripped the top of the envelope and pulled out the page to be greeted with the sight of a scrawl she was oh so familiar with.

On impulse, Tenten reached for it now. She grabbed for her coat, took out the letter and thumbed the stained page with tenderness. Though in her heart she had all her letters down verbatim, she extracted an entirely different feeling when she read the letters in their original form.

So she unfolded it, and read it for what seemed like the hundredth time.

* * *

"My most splendid friend!

First I must ask you how you are, for you must feel terrible with whatever forsaken situation you are stuck in. How long is it since we have spoken? The last of our conversations were in that abbey, of which I have now escaped, and how long ago was that? Months, I am sure, and ever longer by the time my message reaches you.

The time has come for me to inform you that I have fallen in love! Remember your proposal then? I am afraid that now I must turn it down indefinitely, as I am sure you will understand (in fact I still doubt that you were serious when you first placed the notion forward). Her name is Sakura, and her eyes shine brighter than any emerald bay, any jewel I have known. I am taking into serious consideration to propose marriage to the fair lady, though she is likely to reject me as she has rejected all my previous advances.

Now, I will not continue to inconsiderably ramble on about my own successes; I need to ask you of yours.

How does the battle fare? Although it must be horrible, there must be some sort of hilarity, some speck of light in that unyielding darkness. I, missing an arm and a leg, express my deepest desire to fight by your side, but alas it is a feat most difficult with my disability in mind. They will not let me reapply for the army nor do I know where to find you, for you are always moving about like the sporadic petal you are. For this unfortunate situation I am most sincerely sorry.

I can only hope that you eat well and sleep well, as I am no longer able to be there to remind you to do so except in written words as I do now. I know that when you are unhappy you never do the things you should, for your own detriment. Please do as I say and take care of yourself, my dear friend. I would not be able bear it if you do not return. In the condition that you fail to return, however (which you WILL NOT) I would be proud that such a friend of mine has defended their country in such a wholesome and endearing way.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I must inform you that I am unable to return home at the present. Our village has been overrun by, dare I say the enemy, and perhaps it was because your parents escaped that confinement that they have not written. However, Gai has written! Surely this should be the news of which I should have informed you first. Oh, I was just so carried away with thoughts of Sakura's eyes!

Ah, forgive me—Gai has written. He is well, and this arthritis has improved. He drinks his daily cups of tea and two plates of curry every morning, out in the countryside to which he, Mrs. Maito and your parents have escaped. Yes—they are all safe and well! Speaking of her, old Gai's kind wife lives life better than ever, and you should know that she has even taken up cookery once again, and when he is able old Gai teaches her the martial arts. He wants her to gain the upper hand with the enemy should she ever face them, and she wishes to protect her husband from the bottom of her heart. My friend, isn't it romantic? Oh, I'm sure she'll be a splendid warrior in no time!

Unfortunately, their safety can only be assured by their obscurity. I am afraid that they cannot tell me where they are, for fear of being found. This you must understand. But do not fret; they have left me many clues of which to find them. And when I do, I will send word to your ma, pa to tell them you should be safe and that they have nothing to worry about; you are a tough soldier, a real brick. Once I do this, I am sure you will hear from them soon.

But I know how careless you can be. I beg you again; take care of yourself for your own sake. Hell, do it for my sake, for your parents', for our comrade's sakes, whether they still be with us or not. I do not need to express to you just how much I love and worry about you, my old friend, because I believe that you are well aware of how much I miss you.

Take care, and be safe.

Lee."

* * *

The first time she had read the letter she had sniffled. She was ashamed to have cried, but she'd picked herself up after she had.

Tenten placed the letter back into its envelope, where all her friends' letters were carried, and inserted them into her worn chest pocket. She never let her collection of personal trinkets go, never left them out of the warmth of her heart where rain and sludge could not soil them. Her watch, those letters, photos, gifts and memorabilia had become more valuable than her life could ever amount to. They had become a nostalgic fuel, a small vestige of light that she could hope to return to someday.

Even now, after Lee had continued the tale of his new whirlwind romance and the chronicles of home, he had not found either Gai or her parents. Lee's letters arrived like irregular serials in a pulp magazine. He told of his new advances towards Sakura, her rejection, offered comment on her letter, and sometimes would mention something about receiving word from Gai or her parents. Upon close inspection, however, Lee always seemed to be going around in circles, which he did sometimes, but never so often. Every time he received a letter from Gai, he would never attach it. Now, Tenten knew that Lee was fond of their teacher, but she also understood how much the three of them all cared for each other. In a plausible situation Lee would have given Gai her name and mailing details, and she would have heard from the old man himself. In a situation where he wouldn't be able to get through to her, Lee would have just passed on Gai's letter with his own. It was strange for him to do otherwise, and Tenten's suspicious never faltered, though she tried desperately not to show it in her letters.

Maybe something had happened, something bad, to cause Lee to fabricate the story like that. God, she missed them so much, and she didn't want to think it, but it was too unlikely that Lee had not passed word of her to her parents, either. He had never seemed to have been very bright, but Tenten knew Lee was cleverer than that. She'd even read in a newspaper herself that her village had evacuated for vague reasons hidden away in vaguer euphemism. That worried her, and it gave her all the more reason to want to survive to get to the bottom of that mystery.

At least Sakura was real. Her beautiful pink hair was described in many a poetic way through Lee's letters, and her eyes hailed as the prettiest in the world. His story of a pink-haired girl certainly seemed rather outlandish, but it was the fact that Tenten knew of her that she was assured that Lee was at least partially telling the truth. Perhaps Gai and her family really were in a big house in the country, throwing luncheons and chattering their days away, unaware that the world was fucked and so were they. Her father was old, but he was strong, and her mother stubborn, but tougher than anyone she'd known. It was just another maybe to add to her list of comforts, which never came to add up to much, times being what they were; there'd never really be enough of them to go around.

Shortly after, she had received a letter of Neji's, which had been written to her at a much later time than Lee's. It would have been a shame to ruin the pretty paper in which Neji sent it in, and the bonding agent of his choice had not been as stubborn and crude as Lee's selection of glue. This letter she had not ripped, almost out a fear that it would have some sort of ill effect for its sender. The decorative envelope had yielded to her touch, and unrecognisabe yet beautiful penmanship had greeted her.

When she had first held it in her hands, Tenten had been quite surprised that Neji's letter had arrived so early; the postal service had made a terrible reputation out of itself. Lee's and her friends' letters were months—sometimes more than half a year—late. Given Neji's social and economic status and his love for punctuality, Tenten only assumed that he'd netted out that little bit extra to make sure his letters arrived on time. She could not help but grin as she thought this, of how each letter had arrived in a timely matter between everyone else's snail mail. It was still only an assumption, but in this war more harm than good could be done from assumptions. What she had forgotten though, was that assumptions were still a source that hope still remained, and more life came from hope than anyone could have ever imagined possible.

Remembering this, she blanketed Lee's letter in her pocket with its contents held together by a string, specks of unidentifiable stains across the top. From that pile, Tenten reached for Neji's. Mirroring her first impressions of the letter she had formed so long ago, Tenten almost smiled at how—surprisingly—sensuous the text was.

* * *

T.T. Ryuu,

How it pains me to write this—I wish everyday that we will be safe, but knowing the throes of war, how can anyone ever hope to be safe in it?

But there is some happiness in this pathetic life of ours it seems, and I'll write to you today to share it. I know you have your own stories of small triumph to tell, so I will tell you mine: I've earned my wings and unfurled them. As of today I am free to fly the friendly skies, and I only dream that they will bring me victory, and help me end this wretched war. It is too soon to say, but who knows? Perhaps a certain path of clouds will bring me home, or take me to where-ever you are. They've accepted me as a pilot and I am to report to duty early tomorrow morning. I am at a quaint little cafe overlooking the shore, with a single sheet of paper, writing to you, and hoping that you will write back.

You have not written me, so I've been anxious these past few months. I've wondered if you had chosen to break contact with me, or worse yet, perish before we could meet again. Where are you at the moment and how are you? I wish that you are well, and I am confident that by now—with your past guidance and your new experiences—that you are, but I must hear this from yourself.

It is not that I have forgotten you, please never think that. It is only that in the time from your departure and now, it has been too hectic all around with Uncle Hiashi's death (do you remember the general who lead us by the beach?), and pilot training that I have not found much time to sit down with a pen and paper. You know how the war is; there is always something else waiting to be done just when you think you are finished. To be frank, even when I did have hefty time off, I drained all that time refining fifty-six drafts before this final copy. I do hope that you have not forgotten me and that my message is coherent now, as I am at my wits end, and paper is becoming scarcer by the day so I should conserve all that I have. I would send you a telegram, and I ought to, but I adamantly believe a telegram simply would not be enough to express all that I have to say thoroughly and to a point where I was satisfied with my message. I prefer to my recipients to receive my messages written in my hand otherwise.

I would very much like to hear tales of our comrades through you, as I feel that during the time we have spent at war I have not been able to communicate to them in quite the same way that we have. That it not to say that I do not care for them—it is the contrary, really. That annoying little dog, and his impertinent young owner, are they well? And of Akimichi, and Nara, and Aburame? What of them? I have written to your good friend, Rock Lee, but I have not yet been replied to.

And I know you are busy as much as I, but please, reply to my letter. It would mean the world to me if you did, for I have heard no word from you in a whole year. Though you owe me nothing, and I, likewise to you have not posted you a single word until now. It would bring much delight to any soldier, to hear of a friend's anecdotes, and joys, and fears, and pains. It would be rude besides, and terribly egocentric of me to speak of myself only, so please make it a priority to ease me of my terrible crime against the laws of etiquette.

Because I am now only a lowly airman, and you probably promoted to lieutenant or even surpassed me in my former rank, I have lost all military power over you. So I ask a favour as a friend and not as a command from a tired tyrant: make it back. Do whatever it takes.

Other than this, I don't know what I should write to you. As you can imagine I am lost for words. I am no master of verse nor am I a particularly articulate man. You know this; all who know me as Hyuuga Neji know this.

Be safe and farewell.

Yours,

Neji

* * *

The sheer waste of General Hiashi's life seemed like a distant memory to Tenten, then; the notorious, gruesome details of his assassination had come up often in the news and across the soldiers. The iron maiden that had brought about his death had almost evolved into mythical proportions, and many a variation of the tale was told in nights where the men sang songs, drank beer, ate and made merry. It was only Neji's casualness about the entire situation that shook her, though the more she thought about it, the more Neji's self-restraint and peppered decorum made sense. It had happened months ago, and he had probably cried for him at the time. It was only very _Hyuuga_ of Neji to have kept as little emotion towards him in his personal letters as possible. Hell, _writing _to Tenten herself was most probably a breach of his family's unwritten, sacred law.

The letters that followed chronicled of his tale across the skies and the seas. In his passages, Neji lyrically described to her his wings and the geometry of clouds in a way she thought he knew not how. Neji shared with Tenten all that he had asked of her—anecdotes, and joys, and fears, and pains. He made the most mundane of tasks resonate like "eureka!" in his grand letters, and in return Tenten could only write back as many pages worth of news she could about how everyone was doing and things she thought would be of interest, often stirring clumsy grammar, inapt adjectives and similes into the mixture to give it a very certain _Tenten _touch. She was often spared the specifics, the where and why of his travels, but it was only military protocol as such an act could let precious information insinuate itself into the hands of the enemy, the last thing anyone but the enemy would want.

Later, in her replies, Tenten wrote to Neji and Lee about everything that had happened while they were a world's width away. In her ardent, long, choppy letters, she had left out the bits he thought boring (she could never be as glamorous a writer as Neji, never turn mud to wine), and she wrote to them both of her adventures with the old platoon.

She told them of how Shikamaru one day had caught the shaking disease, and how they stupidly predicted indigestion. After days of the afflicted insisting that all was well, Shikamaru fell unconscious and they found a precise incision on the between his big toe and his second toe. When they rushed him to the infirmary it had been too late. Shikamaru's skin was clammy and cold to the touch, and his wound surrounded by yellow pus and grime. He'd barely spoken for the two weeks they stayed with him—Chouji, Kiba, Shino and Tenten—and all he would often utter such thinks like, "Hourglass," and, "my time is up."

Chouji spent his time scavenging for all traces of food he could find, made makeshift meals of which were scrawny yet somehow still excellent. Shikamaru was spoon-fed daily, always granted with a smile that never dimmed. Once, he'd even gathered enough ingredients to brew a stew to share. But when they told him that Shikamaru was dying and his big toe had to go, Chouji's smile withered in an instant. Kiba, Shino and Tenten often took the backseat whenever Chouji was in close proximity. That sombre night, they stood near the doorway as Chouji candidly bawled out his secrets.

The guilt had obviously been—in Chouji's own words—killing him, and Chouji told Shikamaru all about his spontaneous tryst with Nurse Yamanaka back by the beach. He'd cried himself through every sorry, sorry, sorry, and out of stupidity and naivety, read out loud to him the tender letters he and Ino had exchanged. Shikamaru most probably did not want to hear it; Chouji's upsetting wails would have placed upon him the burden of migraines. But he listened patiently and silently, nodded and smiled when he needed to. Even so, at end of it all, the day Shikamaru would be sent home, after Kiba, Shino and Tenten had all said their goodbyes; Chouji had asked Shikamaru with tears in his eyes to forgive him.

Though in his condition he should not have been able manage it, Shikamaru had taken Chouji's hand and kissed it, smiled and said, "I'm happy for you." And after that they were asked to leave. But Chouji fought and thrashed with the strength of a bear, and could only be forced outside only with the combined forces of Kiba, Akamaru, Shino and Tenten.

That day also became the first time Tenten had heard Shino laugh. His laughter was a strident, freakish sound, and it came out after Kiba had made a very, _very _funny joke in the hope that he would help extract a chuckle or a smile from Chouji. The man for which the joke was intended had then lapsed from tears to mirth, and laughed so hard that he only began to cry again. It was then that Kiba successfully delivered his two-punch, and secured the moment in the minds of his company.

The week after, they were informed via telegram that Shikamaru had miraculously recovered after he was visited by two suspicious figures in his hospital bed. Though this seemed entirely irrelevant to Tenten at the time, Chouji had a look on his face that seemed to know more than she could fully comprehend. Gossip thrived that night, and the men made crude jokes, not knowing that the very next day they would be hit.

Shino had his side covered in shrapnel, but he survived and made not a sound. Chouji in comparison had screamed in agony (he had always been unashamed of crying), his side singed, and both were sent home thereafter. Kiba was physically unscathed for the most part, but Tenten had received a couple of cuts on one side of her arm that scarred but healed.

Soon after this, Tenten went with Kiba to the sniping department (if Neji could pursue his dreams, why could she not do the same?). There she served for two years and garnered quite a reputation for herself. By some members of the press, she became _Leafsplitter_, a dangerous, elusive Konohan who was said to be able to split a falling leaf from a mile away. This was untrue of course—Tenten had never tried.

As always, there were many atrocities along the way, but Tenten hung on to her letters and her photos and her watch, her little prizes, as she held onto her life, and kept all thoughts of submission at bay.

The last written letter Tenten received had come extraordinarily fast to her reply, and upon noting it in her own response Neji noted it too. As luck would have it, it seemed that they were taking both their leaves at the same time in the same city, so Tenten simply called him up once she spotted him.

And god, the relief she felt when she heard his voice! Low and mellow like she remembered it, Neji had actually sounded _tender _when he spoke. They spoke for a good hour (or more), and at the end of their conversation arranged to meet at the bar she sat in now, in wait of her pen-pal.

A glamorous songstress, dressed so that she resembled a peacock with her iridescent crest headdress and sheeny cocktail piece, oozed sap as she sang of love lost. She had done so for what seemed like hours, up on a stage where a couple of men sat by and gazed dreamily.

* * *

As Tenten tugged nervously at her napkin, she was slow to realise that the gentleman she had been waiting had already appeared on the opposite side of the room. Upon seeing he had not been noticed, he then did something utterly uncharacteristic of him: call out her name with a loud, cheerful voice.

Then her neck shot up, and instantly captured the figure of he who called her, smart in his pilot's uniform. The decorations that hung from his chest pocket shone under the dimmed lights. Though she expected him to take off his hat by the time he reached her table, Neji did no such thing.

To him she was barely recognisable, with her hair down like that, and with what he suspected was a hint of rouge on her lips.

"Neji!" Her mouth broke into a smile as she stood and knew not whether to hold him or regard him with a nod. So Tenten put her hands on his elbows, and frowned while she skimmed her hands over his arms. "You're thinner."

His eyes locked on hers feebly, and it was the first time in years that she had a good look at his face. It was a clean and handsome face, although more worn and melancholy now than it had ever been.

"I see you have changed little," he said, in regards to her personality. Neji abandoned notions of consequential awkwardness, pressed forward, and squeezed the top of her hip. Neji then sat, and called over a waiter for a drink. "I've heard quite a great deal about your deeds through the grapevine. How long has it been since we last saw each other?"

Tenten cocked her head, thought for a while and said, "Three years."

"Three years!" Neji echoed, finally flipping off his hat. It uncovered a neat bandage sitting atop his forehead, and it drew instant curiosity from Tenten.

"What's that, Neji?" she questioned him. Tenten pursed her lips, and this time Neji smiled at her genuinely.

"For our own sakes I'd rather you not ask until it is time to leave, as I would like to enjoy what little time we have together." Neji grabbed his glass of Johnny Walker and pointed at some drunken playboy sitting across from them. He had himself a pint in his one of his big hands, and had his other slapping the buttocks of a robust waitress. "We should be following his example and making the best of tonight."

Tenten whipped to the table of sailors where Neji pointed. The men were holding up their longnecks, and singing a ridiculous shanty about sailing the high seas whilst encountering countless fair maidens and devilish serpents. Each had a lovely lady bouncing on their laps, too. When her gaze returned to her old friend, Tenten found it difficult a giggle. Neji too, flashed her some teeth, and what began as a forced laugh eventually evolved into a full rounded, indisputable mirth.

Then, the suddenly rambunctious young girl had began playing with Neji's hands in hers as she began to tell the story of her own experiences during the war, since Neji had shown quite a lot of his subdued temperament that night. She couldn't blame him; it wasn't easy to get a spot in such a bar as that. But now that they were here, there would be not a wink of sleep that night.

She told him stories. She mostly rehashed her letters, but she took the golden opportunity then to fill in any plotholes she had left and deliver certain opinions she had run out of space to write about in her letters. Kiba had gone AWOL more times than she could count (always returning like a lost pup), but this time he'd gone for almost twenty five days. It was too recent an occurrence that Tenten thought was not worth mentioning, so she told Neji of it now. She chatted him up till dawn, and between those hours Neji contributed with his own tales of glory and tragedy. All throughout the night they exchanged characters they familiarised with, meticulously constructed in every detail and painted only by the words that were expressed that night at their little table.

There was no tiredness in either of the two warriors the moment they could see the light breaking through the window. For staying awake so long they had no regrets. It wasn't the first time they had done it, and most probably there were many more early mornings like those to come.

"What'll we do now?" she said as the sun came through the window, sipping what was probably her tenth glass of champagne.

"Whatever you like," was Neji's happy reply. Neji rubbed his chin, swinging the chair from left to right playfully. He pulled from his pockets a roll of cash. "We could shop for practical things, or impractical things."

Tenten pursed her lips and rested her chin on her hand. "Only if it's my shout for a dinner and a movie."

* * *

**7/28/2011: **Yeah. I just pulled a –X– years later on you. I am so, _so _sorry.

This time I simply don't have an ambling excuse. I hit a period of time where creative ego was down and I didn't think the stuff I was putting out was worth it (i.e. writer's block. _Sorta._), so I took an unannounced hiatus. Not to mention I proposed a novel-writing challenge to some fellow writer friends of mine a couple months ago, and at one point I was jumping erratically from one story to the next. But my writer's block is getting better now (I hope), and I eagerly polish my imaginary writer's badge in preparation the finale! Here's a chapter to celebrate. Thank you so much for reading, you rock my world.


	28. Entwinement

_Entwinement_

Neji's roll of cash thinned and thinned as the sun drew its path across the sky. They placed their obligations aside, and tried to have fun. They went window shopping, and Tenten looked beautiful in orange and pink, beige and blue. She had surprised him the night before, dressed up all pretty (was that rouge he had seen on her lips?). He was always used to the boyish side of Tenten, and it was strange to see her step out from the changing rooms a different person.

The day came and went quickly. When they became tired of shopping and lunch came about, the pair treated themselves to an indulgent lunch with their shopping bags sitting at their feet. A movie came after that, though it was in a foreign language that Tenten could not understand.

The film was nothing like the war. While the war was brutal and grimy and unforgiving, the film was grainy, fuzzy, romantic and practically indecipherable to Tenten. So Neji had to lean in close, and whisper a translation into her ear.

Of course, it was an excuse to usher her over and whisper such things as "hold me tight" and "I love you" out of a romantic context. It was quiet in the cinema and Neji's smooth voice and his warm breath on her neck was so very, very sensual. And though it shrilled Tenten that his lips were near her jaw and she could almost hear his pulse, Neji's periodic, all-too audible gulps showed to her that he was more vulnerable than she was.

It became obvious then—as it always had been, only more quietly—that in the five years they'd known each other; their lives had slowly fastened around each other in a tender intertwinement. If Lee were to comment on it, he would probably proclaim it a _bloom of most youthful passion_.

When they left the cinema, both parties felt strangely _sad. _Although Neji had his arm around her shoulder Tenten found it difficult to ignore that welling sensation behind her eyes. And although she didn't know it, the movie—happily ended, atmospheric, exemplary—had Neji's eyes misted around the corners too.

Maybe it was the obliviousness of the characters, maybe the music or the beautifully simple plot or how the leads had genuinely deserved each other in the end, but there must have been something very poignant, something very saddening that was displayed on the screen that left them feeling so contemplative.

Even Neji was at a loss, so he ceased to dwell on the matter. He threw his coat over Tenten's shoulders as they exited the pictures, put his across her arm and brushed a ghost of lips above her crown.

"I think it's time for dinner," he said, looking up at the bruised sky, "Won't you dine with me tonight?"

"Sure," she said. Tenten smiled rather brokenly and leaned closer to Neji. "I'm not up to anything at this time of day, and I know you have a really good taste for that stuff. Yeah, I'd love to."

For a second, with her distant expression, her scarred hands clutching at collars of his coat and her red, red lips forced into that smile, Tenten looked the part of a stray bird with her beak broken and wings shackled. She looked nothing like the naive soldier girl that had walked into his platoon with her outlandish best friend years ago.

"Alright then." He gave her shoulder a small squeeze. "And I'd like to ask a favour, Tenten."

"Yes." She made no uncomfortable pauses or sudden shifts as Neji said what they had both been thinking.

"Will you spend the night with me?"

She didn't reply immediately, and she didn't need to.

* * *

She had forgotten how to be feminine. She didn't flutter her lashes or look away shyly. After all, to do so was a sort of sign of disrespect on the battlefield. Every soldier knew it was a sin to look away from the eyes of a dying man and rude to leave a gaze unreturned. But Neji never did like her for her femininity, so Tenten did not have to readjust the leg shafted between Neji's knees, or speak with coyness, and most of all, needed not to place herself in his hands.

The first thing Tenten did upon entering the room was to flop on the bed, still the slightest bit giddy after their Merlot-drenched dinner. Neji, who suddenly felt unaccountably _heavy_, followed soon after.

She—almost teasing, now—flipped from side to side. It was a playful game of tag, but when Neji finally caught her, the atmosphere dropped from a breathtakingly giggly mood into a more sombre one. His eyes locked on hers, and perhaps it was the tenderness and not the intensity of them that broke her.

There was a burning sensation then, stoked in the pits of her stomach. God knows why she was getting worked up now, it was only Neji. And they just looked at each other for the most extended period of time before a lock of Tenten's hair fell across her face and Neji moved to tuck it behind her ear.

This resulted in a kiss, fuelled by something incomprehensible that burned behind their touching cheeks. Neji had run his fingers from her earlobe to the slope of her jaw. He leant in for yet another kiss, but this time Tenten edged a tiny distance away from him and placed a hand over his mouth.

"Why are we always like this?" she mused. "We always end up like this, and – this sounds really corny I know but..."

"A simple question with a simple answer," was his confident reply. Neji closed his eyes, slipped close and nuzzled her palm with his nose. "We are destined for each other."

"You really think that?"

Neji directed at Tenten that all too familiar smirk, picking at the strap of her dress. That smirk instilled within her hope that the old arrogant prince was still in there somewhere. "No. Of fate and such things I have no faith in whatsoever, but must we assign everything a reason? Must it be expressed in words? You give me a good explanation as to why we still live and I will try to do the same for—"

His mouth was flapping about and she decided to shut it up with another brush of lips. She worked diligently from bottom to top, and when Tenten tried to reach out to touch his forehead, his rapt gaze flashed back into a ferocious glare. Neji turned the hand away.

"Don't touch that," he snapped. Tenten, mildly alarmed by his sudden sharpness, drew her hand only a small inch away from his front.

"I just..."

"Better you leave it," he grumbled. After a prolonged stare from the lady, Neji rolled his eyes and warned her of what laid beneath the bindings. "I'll tell you what it is, it is the mark of the enemy, possibly the most—I've been branded, Tenten, by the..."

Stubbornly, Tenten returned his scowl. What gibberish. "_Show me_."

His hand came up to constrict around her wrist. She clenched her hand into a fist, clicked her tongue and stated oh-so calmly, "let go of my wrist, Neji. You're hurting me."

At once he dropped his hold, cursing under his breath. With this, she reached out to gently unbind his bandage and... _Oh._

Now she understood why he had been trying to hide it, and quickly she put the bandages back in place. Her apology was not much more than a mumble. Why was it that she had never listened to him?

"I-I shouldn't have asked," she stammered. Disjointed words choked up her speech, and mucus threatened to clog up her nose. "What in the world did they do to you?"

He took her by the shoulder, hushing her. Now that the secret was out, there'd be no avoiding the subject. "It's quite alright. They have done nothing more than this brand. It was originally intended for my uncle only he—well; let's conclude with the fact that he may not have had as many friends as his family would have liked to think."

Tenten nipped at his neck and took his hand. She directed it under the hem of her dress to rest under her thigh. "Prove it."

_Damn_, thinking back on it he never really had seen her clearly, for all the number of assignations they'd conducted they never had such a well-lighted environment to carry it out it. The fact made him almost—nervous—upon dragging up the pretty frock. Truth be told, he'd been waiting to get it off her for quite a while since the day had begun. But now, he suddenly became soft in the knees and weak in the head. Maybe it was the fact he'd not seen her for three years? Or was what she had said earlier on that pushed him beyond the touchy threshold of guilt?

But by god, for how long had that unutterable dearth grown? While flying in the unfriendly skies, tongues were always to be kept behind teeth at all times, and never, never at the cusp of a woman's breast.

That night, Neji's hair—long and sleek and dark—draped over her flesh and sweat and shrouded them both in a slender, soft sable, whilst Tenten's fingers squirmed their way along his spine.

* * *

Afterwards, Tenten had eyed the light that painted their skin a lambent, warm gold. Her upper lip seemed rather stiff, and her brows slanted in a way which made her seem almost displeased.

Tenten had tried, and until then succeeded at attempting to forget the upper cut permanently etched from her belly, under her right breast and straight up until her armpit. She had gotten used to the small cuts and blemishes on her arm, but—

"Beautiful," he murmured. And he really did make her feel that way when he thumbed the taint, careful as if he were reaching inside to touch her heart. Tenten's cocked her head and her eyebrow slanted in the most pleasant way. Her lips twisted in confusion, and Neji heaved a heavy sigh, and reached his own branded forehead. "We all have our own wounds, Tenten. Some fresh, some old," he said, inching closer before he continued to speak, "Which—which is why I think we would do well to mend them. Together."

The comment took a longer while than he had originally intended for to cross over to Tenten, but when it did he was met with a rather loud response.

"You mean you uh," she babbled. "Are you saying we should...? I don't know, be together?"

"Precisely!" Neji's smile was as wide as it had ever been. "I thought that after this war's over, we might go to see Lee, and your parents, and perhaps settle in a house by the sea. There's a place up for sale that's perfect and..."

At this, Tenten almost fell out of the bed.

"You crazy, crazy man!" she chuckled. "I know you're joking. You've got to be kidding me!"

That was not going to happen, because she was in her whole entirety against the very idea. Lee was an exception in that he was the only one to have understood her in her entirety. But he had made his rejection rather patent the last two times she had saw him, once three years ago and yet another the other day when she had called him.

It was plain as day that he was completely head over heels over that Sakura girl, though Tenten had not the heart, the time or the patience to convince him that his feelings were most probably not being reciprocated anytime soon (according to all he had told her, anyway). But Lee was a fighter, a stubborn man, who'd persevere until the very end. So who knew, there might have been a chance for them yet.

Neji's face was composed in a way in which convinced her he was completely serious in the matter. With time she dropped her slightly delirious onslaught of giggles and decided to collect herself in the same way as Neji did. Tenten crossed her arms and bit down on her lip, hard.

"You've put some thought into this, haven't you?"

"I have," he replied. "And I only ask you to consider it." Then Neji, lips pulled tight, turned to pull a sheet over him. "My apologies, but all of a sudden I feel quite tired. I must make room for some sleep."

Tenten took her clammy hand and placed it over his equally moist shoulder. She edged her lips closer to his ear.

"I-I'll think about it, okay? When this war's over, I'll think about it. Is that alright with you, Neji? Right now I don't even know if we'll both—I'll make it back. And I don't know if—"

"Now, now, don't talk like that," he hushed, taking a second to place his hand behind him and stroke her hair. "Sleep, Tenten. Tomorrow will be a big day for the both of us. It is best to rest up as much as you can."

Tenten finally had nothing to say than, and for once did as Neji suggested.

* * *

**22/8/2011: **So, here's some porn, guys. I don't usually update at the beginning of the week, but this was way overdue and I wanted to. Now, isn't it funny that I wrote these chapters back in November last year? The smexers was over on the flowery side of things, so I'm happy to have enough insight now to edit out that purply prose. Aaand, WHOOT, we're almost done. The next chapter will be the (shortish) finale, and following that I will sneak in a kind of bonus thing. If we're lucky we'll get it by the time the week is over. It's been really fun, guys, and I hope you have a great Tuesday!

**TRIVIA**_**: **_Concerning Neji's brand... Well, what does the caged bird seal look a bit similar to?


	29. Goodbye

Goodbye

Up until then, Tenten would wake up with her head full of all sorts of worry. Worry for herself, worry for Lee, her parents, Kiba, her team, the lachrymose past, the bleaker future, so on and so forth. But that day her mind was clear of any negativity, and instead filled with thoughts of felicity that however brief, couldn't be denied of its existence.

Tenten could have sworn that Neji had carried the smell of wet soil and tattered grass when she placed her nose against his hair the night before. She knew now such a thought was perhaps a paranoid delusion, for what were the gritty smells of a tragic battlefield became an array of floral and pleasant scents. Now she could only wonder – which was the illusion?

Her biological clock had been set in a way to only allow her the least amount of sleep needed, and judging by the light, or lack thereof, coming in from the window it was still early in the morning. Perhaps it had been cold the last night, as she had her nose pressed against Neji's back and her arms tight across his shoulders by the time she had awoken. Tenten refused to acknowledge the fact that she had succumbed to such a desire to be so literally clingy.

Neji didn't seem to mind nonetheless. In fact, he seemed to be quite comfortable in her warm grasp, for when she drew back her arms, that's when he stirred. The minute motion, however small was still significant, and Tenten shook with fright.

"Awake, are we?" he said. At that hour he had no energy to worry about Tenten's little jump. He swept his lashes roughly with his fingers, and didn't hesitate to dash to their bathroom.

"What time is it?" Tenten asked.

"Sometime early," Neji mumbled. "We'll have plenty of time before my train departs."

Tenten grinned. "But you're a pilot; you could just fly away."

"Suppose I could," replied Neji, pausing to spit out the toothpaste he had been swishing in his mouth, "But the skies are a dangerous place for a fledgling like myself."

Tenten got out of bed herself and snuck off to pick something they had bought the day before. "Don't be so humble, Neji."

Neji then appeared at the door in a flash, neatly redressed in his uniform. The only difference now was that he was armed with a coat. She had yet to fix up her bottoms, and he already held the door out for her with all of their things hung across his arm. He said not a word, but the impatient look on his face spoke for him.

She rolled her eyes and hopped around while struggling with her sock, tumbling over to hook him by the arm.

"I'm gonna miss you again, I know it," she muttered. She pushed her head on his shoulder. Neji made do with a small hum, stating his agreement.

It was his illogical hypothesis that somehow convinced him of the fact in which the more they conversed the more painful their parting would be.

* * *

On their trip to the station Tenten got tired of Neji's sudden quietness. She had tried some small talk which netted her a handbag and him a new cap as they stepped through the streets, but she had not been successful in her attempts to spread some cheer. She had even suggested they go for some ice cream, and yet his frown never broke, not even for her sake. Had she said something, done something to upset or offend him?

Walking through the drizzle-kissed streets the cold air bit into their skin; she couldn't help but think she had done something very, very wrong.

"Say something, damnit!" she hissed. Tenten took her second ice cream and chucked it close to her feet. The rain quickly devoured the dairy sweet, carrying the double sprinkled vanilla cone away in a stream of rainbow water.

Neji turned his head, wistful and tired to her. He shook his head, and Tenten wasn't sure if it was the light precipitation or a tear that descended from his eye. God, he looked like, like he was about to _burst. _It was the very first time Tenten had saw him showing such difficulty with restraint. His strong teeth bit down on his poor lip, and his fists clenched tight at his sides.

"A-are you alright?" Tenten brushed his cheek with the back of her index finger. She had no regard for anyone that watched their very public display of affections. Neji squinted, and in peak of sentiment he took that one hand and pulled it close to him, bending over to sob into their entwined fingers. Tenten was decisive as she let him fall into her robust hold, so that she too could help him carry the weight of his burden, if only for just a minute. Neji's hands extended to reach her shoulder blades. And as soon as they had spun around her, he constricted. His fingers all but clawed at her back. Tenten put one hand behind of his head and stroked his wetted hair. "Oh, baby."

"Tenten." Neji's tears were a broken, strong dam, aided by the rush of adrenaline that had rushed up the back of his neck. Saliva had gathered in his mouth, his nose was running quick and it felt like he was right back to being a damn kid again, although it no longer bothered him how much he was letting go all out. "I'll miss you. I... I already do."

He tucked her under his chin, perhaps feeling for the last time her breath on his neck.

It was almost time to go.

"Try to pretend that you're happy," Tenten commanded, placing both hands on each side of his face, "For me."

"I will," he said. And then Neji's lips fell up to form a mild, however genuine smile.

"Look, I'll be alive by the time this is all over," she reassured him. Her mind was set, and her gaze pure steel. "And nothing's going to stop me."

* * *

At the station there were two hours until the train would depart, and the whole time the duo said not a word, only communicating through their unrelenting grip on each other's hands. It was a more difficult feat than most would imagine; there were a crazy amount of people in the station, and the majority of them were in a rush. They had not the time to be selfless, resulting in hundreds of bumped shoulders and pulling currents, and once or twice Neji and Tenten nearly lost sight of one another and been trampled over in that stampede of wives and husbands and mothers and fathers and soldiers and children. Even considering the noise, it would be difficult to correspond using an oral method. At least the worst of the rain was unable to catch them and only began to pour when they entered that roofed shelter.

And really, they needn't have said anything more because their tongues were tired of talking and loving from the night before. However, when it was finally time for them to separate once again, their poor tongues were put to use again in a last, at first sloppy, kiss. What began as a careless exchange of saliva however, evolved into a more fervent and heated entanglement. One would find that their embrace was not unlike the saturated pop art plastered on sappy propaganda posters. But they didn't care; it was the one moment they could share before they parted.

As he boarded his train, Tenten had never been as reluctant to let go of his hand to the extent that he had to wring it off her. It hurt her somewhat to see him do just that, even if she understood that they both had their own duties to fulfil. They were responsible for the defence of their country and all else that they loved.

Neji soon became comfortable in his seat, but not before he decided to call out to Tenten after a series of mini-discussions he held in his head, and the final verdict insisted really _was _necessary to tell her what he had been holding in for so long.

"Tenten!" he called out to her. She was almost indistinguishable in the sepia crowd. She immediately turned to him and ran up to the window he put his hand at, waving and kissing her goodbyes. "Yes?"

Her eyes were full of trust and patience as she tilted her head to look at him.

"Send a greeting to the team on my behalf, would you?"

Tenten nodded. The train moaned, as the engine roared and the conductor blew his whistle. She looked at Neji impatiently, biting down on her lip. Her fingers loosened around his. Neji had more to say, so he retightened them around hers. More heads stuck out of the window, and Neji shortly found himself squeezed against several other men by his left and right. They all stretched out their arms, and Tenten was joined too by lovers and family alike, reaching out to their counterparts.

"You take care!" he shouted over the aggravated steam blowing from the train.

"You too!" she yelled back. The train sprung alive.

"You'll send the crew my greetings and best wishes, won't you?" Neji added.

"Yes, yes."

_Chugga chugga chugaa choo-choo!_

"You promise?" he prodded. Her answer was delayed as the wheels began to beat down harder, faster against the tracks. Tenten was moved to jog along the platform, pushing random bystanders like herself out of the way.

_Stomp, stomp, stomp._

"I-I promise."

Neji better of made it quick; time was running out. "There is just one more thing I must tell you!" he proclaimed. "I..."

It was harder than he had thought to push it through his mouth, but with Tenten sprinting alongside the train like so, it was difficult to deny her his confession. "I..."

Tenten had already begun sprinting by then, and what would be an impatient glare had instead come on as a look of desperation.

Even in the midst of that pressure, Neji paused right there in sudden epiphany, smiling a satisfied smile. She seemed to have noticed it and slowed down in her run.

It had taken Neji all too long to realise it was never necessary to say what he had to say. He stood there shaking his head like a fool, while Tenten stopped and beamed right back at him with a full set of teeth. She grew ever the more distant as the train tore their hold apart. However strong their hands held onto each other in the trenches, it mattered little know against the deadly momentum of the train. Tenten ran towards the end of the platform until she could only stop. She was difficult to see, but she understood what he was trying to say with that one cheeky smile. There was not a need to put it into words, for as he saw that smile Neji knew he'd already proved it.

She knew all along, and there had never been any need for those words.

She could be within him again, and nothing but death could get in her way.

_**fin.**_

**A/N: **Goodness it feels good to complete a fic, especially one that is almost 100K and has taken two years to finish. And yet, at the same time, it always feels sad to part with a story you've put out there, _especially_ a long one such as this. And saying goodbye to your readers is even more of a distressing experience, _especially_ an excellent, gracious, kind and lovely audience such as yourselves.

Gah, I have too many soppy, sappy things to say to all of you. Please give me a moment to compile an acknowledgement page, and please check pack to see your personal dedication posted up soon.


	30. Acknowledgements

_Acknowledgements_

**COMPLETED 28/9/2011!**

The journey is finally over! I'm _freeee! _It's been a hectic almost-two years... But we are not done yet, not until I am done **thanking** **each and every one of you personally**. You have all been excellent to me, and I sincerely hope that reading About a Heroine has provided you with as much joy that your patronage has granted me. I'm going to go up and over the top in a second.

You can just flick through the list or press ctrl plus f to find my specific dedication to you. After the list of people who've reviewed and stuff I've got a couple of things to say, too, so you can stay around for more of my babbling, if you wish.

Feel free to dump a review on this "chapter" if you want to place critique on the fic as a whole, reply to any of the statements I've made or requests you may want to ask of me.

* * *

_**Review Call! **_(No order): People who state that the Naruto fandom is an immature one and not one where you can find excellent, detailed reviews are so _wrong. _**You guys are really awesome**, and never, _ever_ let anyone tell you otherwise.

_**Thanks to...**_

...NO NO (anon), PeaceGirlForever, CloudGazer15, .Chan Lacrime Ascuitte, shugosailormewmewz21, Red ChopSticks, missy4eva, turazya, Ly, Kami-Sama334, The One Nobody Remembers, GoldenDragonClouds, QuietShadowz, Daisuke-fujisaki, blazinfire08, Black Heart Puppet, Wanna Sleep, Love Is Only a Word, Tenten-Kunai, anon, YouDon'tHave2Know, alfread, Animeteen221, Artemis Nox, someone, Rozy, XXOpheliacXX, Celadonya, and Eru no Tsubasa. You guys all came at some point or another and through your reviews have still injected me with a good dose of joy. I thank you all for taking the time to read the story and bother constructing a review. You have brought unimaginable amounts of happiness into my life. Thank you so much!

...SargentArgua and your insightful concrit and praise. They've helped me to improve throughout the course of the fic, and pointed me in the right direction whenever I did some good old reediting. Your praise on the other hand always gave me the ego-boost I needed to go on with the next chapter, kinda like a caffeine rush. I always love reading your reviews, as they're long and I do appreciate the time you put into them! Best wishes to you and your stories, doll!

...Wroathe, oh my god, I don't even know what to say. You write fricking essays for each chapter of mine that you read. They're longer than most oneshots on this website. You're damn awesome. I've said this before and I'll say it again, _thank you so much_ for your camaraderie and your feedback. Work your butt out on Vesper, okay?

...SilverEyeShinobi for pimping me out over at your profile and supporting my cause. And not just for this story either, you've kept up with three of my fics so far! And I've enjoyed all our rather long winded conversations we have had in both reviews and PMs... Good luck to you and your half-completed behemoths! One of these days I really should hop over and read some. Seriously, I really appreciate it that you give so much of your time for the NejiTen fandom, and still have some left over to read, and then _review _my humble little fics. You're a _champ _and an amazing friend, and I bloody well hope that I'll continue to see you in the future.

...mizily for giving me confidence in my writing. Simply pointing out and commenting on what the highlights of a chapter were for you and why it did made me unimaginably happy! Your reviews are very concise, and very, very lovely. In whatever you do, you always make me squeal around for hours on end, so I'm also avidly waiting for you to continue on with your own fic, _Of Wine and Weaponry_!

...milk bones, oh thank you! Your reviews are so nice and delicious and supportive, and I love you to death for it. I snuck up on your profile and it seems we do have heaps in common, aside from the obvious NejiTen thing. (Heheh, would you mind if I added you over on LJ?)

...Nanoue-Chan: Your analogical praise of my writing was especially touching and squeal-worthy. I love it when you review, I think you're a wonderful person, and I hope you stick around enough so we can do some more fangirling together.

...LonelyAsura, you came along in the fic's riper age, but I am glad as hell that you did! I hope you're having a hell of a good time hanging around in your fandoms.

...hollysky, I love that you can feel such a spectrum of emotion from reading the story. Thank you so much for reviewing. I wish you happiness.

...DarkAnonymous324 for always popping out of nowhere, and often presenting me, and probably many others, with pleasant surprises.

...Cataclysmic. Motion thank you! Your reviews are so informative and kind and oh _goodness _thank you!

...TinaTenten, GejimayuGirl, eternalsmiles, you all supported me in my previous project, _Once. _You were all there last year, supported that fic, and appeared again to give this one a go. So I'd like to thank you again for stopping by and supporting me in both fanfictions.

... and finally glockieeeeee, Afictionado, Blood-Gaara-Blood, Alquawende, RUNOS SISTER, bright-rebellious and Under a Rain Cloud for being there at the very beginning. Most of you probably won't ever be here to ever read this, but, Under a Rain Cloud, you even stayed as a reader for quite a while after, too! Bright-rebellious, even you made an appearance later on. So thank you, thank you, thank you for that!

Oh yes! And a big thank you to everyone who favourited and alerted, too! You know who you are. You're all gorgeous. You make me so happy that there's an absence of logical or coherent thought right now.

Thanks everyone, really, from the bottom of my heart. I each and every one of love you all in a way that can't possibly be healthy, and I will stab a Hyuuga in the foot every time I miss out on anyone here. So keep the shinobi world safe and let me know if I missed out on you and the list will promptly be updated!

* * *

**Some parting words from the authoress****:**

It's been a frustrating but ultimately rewarding experience after countless late nights and groggy mornings and unmet deadlines, but it's all's said and done now. THIS MONSTER IS FINALLY COMPLETE.

Man, it's the hardest thing I've ever completed so far in reference to the size and content—it's novel length and I never thought I could come up with so many words for one story. I've even tried to incorporate some themes here, and though they probably appear superficial and conspicuous, they're still supposed to be there. See, it's got stuff! Music! Dinamikku Action! Humour! _Un_funny humour! Drama! _Melo_drama! Mystery! Suspense! IN MEDIA RES! Romance! Camaraderie! Feminism! Nekkid Hyuuga!

I do have gripes with _Heroine_. It didn't turn out how I planned at all; I hoped that the scope of the story was longer than it was by the end. Tenten needed more badass moments. The NejiTen also was also quite uneven. In the earlier chapters their relationship moves along slow, and well, suddenly it didn't. So sorry if anyone puckered up their noses for that. I was going for pivotal when it came to the lovey-dovey chapters, but probably came off more random than not. Yeah, this fic sucked in a _lot _of places.

But I'd like to think the fic evolves from a wartime road adventure into an angsty wonderland, and then drowned in a deluge of SAPPPPP(y) romance in the final chapters.

Regarding the period setting, _Heroine_ is a blend of WWI and WWII. In terms of decade I would say it would be reminiscent of the mid-30s, and a WW1.5 if there ever was one. I had WWII Shanghai in mind when conducting the bar scenes but thought WWI during the arc in the trenches. The soldiers are more based on British troops than any other country, but since I've drawn from a lot of sources (see below) even the US Marines show a little (or a lot) in the character's military behaviours and practices.

I don't think I will write a sequel for this anytime soon (it would be huge, my eyes would be sore, no one would read it, and I want the open-endedness of the ending to stay that way) but for a while now I have a wisp of an idea for a companion read. "Lost chapters," if you will, in the form of epistolary pieces that fill in the letters Tenten receives up till she reunites with Neji. But since I'm busier now, it will probably be left on the shelves to collect dust.

Then there's the fact that I'm sort of working on a collection of apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic NejiTen oneshots (**Apocalypse Please**) that I am rather fond of (have a look?). I also have to write an original novel at least 50K by the next Chinese New Year. Those are my latest and pretty much only projects, though I'm hoping on starting a shortish ShikaTema steampunk sometime in the future. ALSO, WHO WANTS COWBOY/GUNSLINGER NEJITEN? Anyone? _Anyone?_

I know most of you guys hate writing reviews and reading author's notes. It's a chore and I'm a ceaseless rambler and you're probably screaming at the screen, wanting to reach in and tear my hair out for annoying you yet again with these huge author's notes for all these months. But I just want to say a huge **THANK YOU **to anyonewho's reading this message right now for tolerating me for such a long time.

Hope to see you all around soon!

Okay, now's probably a good time to close the browser, unless you've got some serious time to kill.

* * *

**MUSIC:**

**The Soldiering Life** – the Decemberists

**Lonely Soldier** – Damien Rice

The two songs above have possibly my initial inspiration to write this whole fic, for reasons that cannot be quite put into words. Or not. It's just as likely I had a random plotbunny pop into my head during 2007/8. While I was holidaying in China.

I've listened to my iTunes library while writing and a lot when not writing to draw inspiration and most of the music I've written to is instrumental and has a great influence on the "feel" of certain chapters.

During the periods I had a bad case of mental constipation, I would just put on a particularly stimulating piece and BOOM (after a few dozen listens). If I was lucky enough, a scene would pop up into my head! Without it, and the eternally sexy Tchaikovsky, I might not have pulled through!

I doubt that any of you lovelies actually _care_, but it's just there if you want to, y'know. Know.

* * *

**GAMES:**

**Valkyria Chronicles**: Without this game I wouldn't have known the difference between a machine gun and a standard scout rifle. And really, I wouldn't have cared. With this I understood a bit more about tanks and mortars, and overall playing this game has probably lead to a greater realism in the fic, however slight.

**Call of Duty: World at War**: Year or two ago, my cousin came along for a visit. He's never owned a console so dad rented COD for him. We spent a couple of hours playing the thing, but never progressed really far. Though those few hours have heavily integrated into the visual representation of the World Wars—I forgot whether this game portrayed the first or second, most probably the second—in my head.

* * *

**MOVIES**:

As music is the petrol to my writing, movies act as the coat that gives the car its iridescent colour. Here's a few movies I've taken inspiration from:

**Atonement**: a lot of the ambience and nurse sequences in the film have inspired me greatly in this fic. And let's not forget the quixotic, airy romance of our leads. I first watched _Atonement_ one or two years go without fantastic impressions of it, but as I was writing this fic, I had a sudden whim to watch it again. In that week that I rented this movie, I think I would've watched it at least four to five times because by some random cosmic chance, the film captured me in ways it did not when I first watched it.

**Disney's Mulan**: Explanation is really not needed here. I've watched this a heck of a lot since I own a DVD copy, mostly to remind me along the way why I was even bothering to continue with the fic to start with. Because Mulan just owns that way. I don't think there's a single ethnic-Chinese girl who _doesn't _include her in their grand list of fantastic heroines. Even the most hardcore feminist's gotta love her. Also drew some influence from the live action **Hua Mulan**.

**Full Metal Jacket**: "I'VE GOT YOUR NAME, I'VE GOT YOUR ASS! YOU WILL NOT LAUGH, YOU WILL NOT CRY!" And... "THIS IS MY RIFLE, THIS IS MY GUN; THIS IS FOR FIGHTING AND THIS IS FOR FUN" is all I have to say.

**Saving Private Ryan**: The opening scenes, oh my. They were extremely graphic, but really opened my eyes a bit with how stimulating it all was. Sure it got a bit too guy-cry and soppy existential towards its conclusion, but it was a very informative, thoroughly enjoyable movie.

**The Patriot**: Old-fashioned Mel Gibson blockbuster at its best. AND HEATH LEDGER. D':

**The Last of the Mohicans**: I hated this film. But that didn't stop me from ogling at open-shirted Daniel Day Lewis and drawing inspiration from everything I could.

**Porco Rosso**: I adore Ghibli films. This placed influence on the bar located near the end of the fic, and perhaps subliminally Neji's eventual shift to piloting.

**Waltzing With Bashir**: Naruto's crazy solo act was soley inspired by a scene in this movie.

**Lust, Caution**: Especially comes to mind when I think of any espionage in the fic. I didn't like the film itself, but the aesthetic was nice.

**The English Patient: **This is one of my new favourite films. It's wildly romantic and full of that winsome filmmaking epic charm.

**All Quiet on the Western Front (1979): **Oh, how I wish I had viewed this film when I first began writing the fic. Unfortunately, I only watched it as the story came to a close. But it's a great film in which camaraderie and the wastage and starkness of war is brought forward, and it's full of poignancy and a handful of amazing scenes. If you ever have the spare time, I would recommend you watch this.

Additional mentions: **Braveheart**,** Glory**,** Forrest Gump**,** Jarhead**,** Chronicles of Narnia **(to a certain extent),** Yossi & Jagger**,** Windtalkers**,** Gallipoli**,** Enemy at the Gates**, **King's Speech**,** Good Morning Vietnam**,** Winter in Wartime**, **The Man Who Cried** etc, etc. There are thousands of movies that are set in wartime.

There are actually _plenty _more sources that I have drawn inspiration from but these are all I can think of on the fly. I've scattered a lot of references and allusions to said sources. Good on you if you can find them! I try to make use of any sources I come across (including a war memorial Canberra trip and so on) so it is impossible to chronicle every single item. If you're into war film, I strongly recommend to you any of the movies above (not that my opinion really counts but go figure). None of the above are listed in chronological order of time watched.

* * *

**BOOKS & ARTICLES**:

**My history textbook**: no kidding, **Dispatches from the Heart**: a really touching collection of letters written from soldiers to loved ones, **Good Housekeeping Wartime Scrapbook**: really informative homefront compilation, **Battles that Changed History**, **From the Corner of a Foreign Field**: you get beautiful poignant prose from tough, emotional soldiers to hopeful verses by war brides. There's a lot of variety here (and very informative pictures that helped a lot!), and reading through some, if not all, acquired in this book is truly quite moving. Aaannd my trusty **Oxford Paperback Dictionary/Thesaurus and Wordpower Guide**, AKA a writer's best friend. :D

* * *

Well, I guess that's about it. Sorry for the overextended notes. When I start talking I just go on and on and... yeah, lemme just finish with:

THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU.

And have a nice day! I hope to see ya all real soon!


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